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THE 



ROCHESTER TOKEN 



SELECT ORIGINAL POEMS 





BY 


GEORGE G. W. MORGAN. 


-,'b 

■-v. 




ROCHESTER: . i 


PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY SHEPARD & GREVE3. 






1849. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by 

GEORGE G. W. MORGAN, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Northern District of 
New-York. 



-# 



NAPOLEON 



AN EPIC. 



BOOK THE FIRST. 

THE INVOCATION — THE ASSEMBLED HOST- 

THE HARANGUE- 

THE MARCH TO RUSSIA. 



^-^^ 



NAPOLEON. 



Lend me. ye Muses, your seraphic fire, 
And with celestial warmth my strains inspire, 
To join in harmony your tuneful choir, 
That man on hearing may my strains admire. 

The firf! which reigned in glorious Homer's breast, 
In Virgil, Shakespeare, Milton, and the rest 
Of mighty poets, now is unpossessed 
By mortal man : Oh, make r^e with it blest I 

Let me direct the world how it may know 

To shun the rocks who 've laid the mighty low ; 

That they observing, as thro' life they go, 

May know that their misdeed 's their greatest foe. 

The records of the past — a loathsome page, 
Save but to teach to a succeeding age ; 
Give me the power the wavering mind t' engage, 
And grief for evermore thus to assuage. 



NAPOLEON. 



Peace! 
Ye farious elements of storm and wind,' 
Be in your fury, for awhile, confined 
To gentle mildness ; or furious take your flight 
To foreign shores, whilst I survey the sight 
Which darts meteoric o'er the dusky plain, 
Of myriad thousands swelling up the train 
Of one great hero — •first among mankind : 
Tho' not in form, great giant he in mind, 
Who lules imp rious if for good or ill, 
Whilst echoing nations glorify his skill. 
In arts of peace or war alike he shines. 
In him the warrior and the sage combines ; 
In war or peace the first of all his age. 
In war the hero and in peace the sage : 
Tho' not of France, yet Frenchmen own his sway, 
With hearts enraptured ; — when he leads the way, 
The nation joyously bring up the rear, 
Wi'h hearts invulnerable 'gainst all fear 
Of death or danger : nought is there to dread. 
When he, the nation's saviour's at their head. 
His staff" composed of men of high degree. 
Kings, Princes, Lords, Dukes, Viscounts too had he, 
The pride of Europe ; nc land could compare 
With noble men, so many as were there. 
With pride his eye illumined, and his form, 
Unbending as an oak in furious storm, 
As he surveyed his well-conditioned force, 
Five hundred thousand men, one-third on horse, 
T' himself he cried, " With such a gallant band 
I could the worlJ itself keep in command !" 
Defeat to him 's a stranger to his soul. 
Victorious ever when he had control ; 



K A P () L E O N . 7 \ 



And now applauding myriads gaily shout 

For battle — " Lead us on, our foes to loul — 

The foes of liberty and all mankind, 

Who strive in hated chains our souls to bind. 

Lead on, Napoleon ! France it is who calls 

For injured justice ; grim tyranny enthralls 

The sojIs of men ; and now, to break the chain, 

France sends her sons to swell your warlike train : 

Lead us to honor, victory or death. 

And blessings shall exhaust our dying breath ; 

' Napoleon,' ever shall our last word be, 

And France herself be second unto thee.'' 

Thus shout the thousands— thus the one addressed ; 

One image only tilled each warlike breast ; 

His ac'ions and his skill alone they know, 

In him is centered all their hopes below ; 

In him the nations see the master soul. 

To him the gods ordain th*- world's control. 

His destiny alone 's the hope of France, 

At his high bidding thousands thus advance. 

And not alone is France in her desire ; 

Surrounding nations also feel the fire 

That burns within each Frenchtnan's warlike breast ; 

The fire, once raging, cannot be suppressed, 

Until the spirit tenanting it? clay 's 

Consumed with fury — then left to decay. 

But now the cry thro' every nation ran, 

" The hour is come, and with it 's come the man !'* 

Hark to the sounds which vibrate in the air — 

'T is he. Napoleon ! now to li«t prepare. 

Hark to the tuneful music of his voice ! 
Let it, ye Galic sons, your hearts rejoice 1 
Hush, ye rude v/inds ! cease your tempestuous roar, 
Till it can mingle with the din of war I 



^^ 



I 8 NAPOLEON. 



Let gentle zephyrs reign triumphant here, 
To wall his tones melodious and clear : 

" Soldiers of France and friends of Freedom, all, 
With joylul pride I here respond your call ; 
With one desire fixed firm in every breast, 
For outraged Freedom's wrongs are unredressed. 
Lend me your patience, wliile I here proclaim 
The wrongs which France has borne, as well the shame 
Which her proud foes, regardless of her fame, 
Have heaped upon her pure, unsullied name, 
Since lurt and luxury advanced the fall 
Of France's impotent king. Remember, all, 
7'hat I have been chief instrument, thro' Fate, 
To keep her fame unsullied, ai.d her state 
Secure from lawless bands of furious foes, 
Who 'd glorify themselves to cause her woes ; 
Who, jealous of her power and her fame, 
Strove to fome.:t what now they foully blame, 
III hopes that her distraction might supply 
Occasion for tneir ruthless force to fly 
Profgssedly to her assistance — so 
As to deprive her at a single blow, 
Of all her power and her glorious fame. 
Unknown to nations only by her shame. 
From youth have I her valiant legions led, 
Invulnerable — never have I fled 
From danoer iminent or deadly strife : 
By Fate's decree I've borne a charmed life. 
Say, was there ever seen, by mortal mauj 
Such furious battles since the world began, 
As those in which alike we've ever shared? 
Did any dare before what we have dared ? 
Did any hero of a former age, 
Renowned ia history or classic page. 



NAPOLEON. 



Ever in any furious war contend 
With missiles sucli as now our foes defend ? 
Could they sustain but for a single day 
What we sustain and, conqu'ring, drive away ? 
And say, brave comrades, did you ever see 
A trace of cowardice or fear in me ? 
Did 1 not ever take the foremost place. 
And ever shf/W my enemies my face ? 
Did 1 not find ye compassed by your woes 
In Italy, sans gold, sans food and clothes- 
Devoid of all save your devoted zeal 
For France's safety — for your country's weal, 
Which patriots only know or feel 1 
Say, soldiers, was it long before you saw 
A glorious end to that disastrous war ? 
Did not the foes you conquered then supply 
Your every need ? Say, did I ever try 
To eng-oss unto myself alone the spoil, 
Or did you share alike reward as toil ? 
Did France then sulTt^r, or did she not gain 
The choicest treasures we could e'er obtain ? 
Remember Milan — which you know did hold 
The many million pounds of English gold : 
Were not her armies and her fleets maintained 
With what we from her furious foes obtriined ? 
Were not the proudest cities all despoiled 
For France's glory ? Have we not e'en toiled 
That she might reap the benefit of arts 
And sciences possessrd by foreign parts ? 
Were not her schools enriched with every gem 
That we could find of worth to place in ihem? 
Or did we only labor for earh treasure 
To spend in vicious luxury or pleasure ? 



10 NAPOLEON 



To deal out justice was my corstant care — 
I Impartially — that rich and poor might share. 

Behold my codes ! lurks there oppression's sway ? 
Concise and clear — to comprehend all may ; 
I All creeds alike respected were by me ; 

I left the minds of all un'rammelled — free, 
\ And let the ways of Heaven to man appear 

\ To Heaven's own grace, and biased none with fear.** 

j Thus to the legions — thus the hero spoke ; 

I Then shouts tumultuous next the silence broke. 

Like fierce artillery in fiercest war, 
t " Vive Napolean ! Vive P Empereur !" 

$ Throughout the mighty legion, every one 

Proclaimed the mighty actions he had done. 

Then spoke the king of heroes once again : 
•' My faithful comrades, let y )ur minis retnin 
How much I've done t' insure c )ntinued peace, 
And war's disastrous plagues forever cease. 
When I had sirived (nor had I strived in vain) 
To make her name illusiiir/us once again, 
I strived as hard as in my power lay 
To save the world and dreadful carnage stay : 
1 sought lor peace from ev'ry neighboring state, 
And hoped sincerely ; but my wretolu'd fate 
Ordained that what I strived so hard to gain 
Snould be denied me ever to obtain. 
Some powers, 'tis true, made timid by alarms, 
Sought my assistance, pressed me in their arms. 
And treaties made ioran eternal peace. 
Which, when they could their shattered force increase, 
They 'd falsely violate — whilst other foes. 
More haughty but as furious as those, 
Treated with scorn all overtures of mine, 
And said the cause which made them thus decline 



NAPOLEON. 11 



To end tiie war, and to an issue bring 

All our disputes, was this— because no king 

Or princely monarch filled the throne of France. 

This to avert, and take away the chance 

That they should ever thus continual sing, 

I sunk the name of Consul in the King. 

Nor did I then the bauble seize, until 

The votes of millions proved the nation's will : 

To this I bowed, then took the regil ro:^, 

And deemed the people's voice the voice of God, 

And raised from out the noblest of their ra'je, 

A high nobility the throne to grace, 

Whose merit was that they some deed had done 

Worthy of France and France's noblest son : 

Not that they were transmitters of a name 

Gained cent'ries since by deeds of pride and shame ; 

Or for their wealth, or p-mders to my will ; 

Not these did I the posts of honor fill ; 

But those whom brav'ry and whom worth combined 

To form deserving, the reward designed. 

But even this did not their rage abate. 

But rather served t' increase their envious hate, 

Whilst holiest treaties, sealed by holiest vows. 

By men whom crowns encircled o'er their brows, 

Were unregarded, and their vows were broken 

Almost as soon as they were spoken : 

And shall the name of France become a jest 

'Mong foreign fools, and France be unredressed? 

Shall its fair fame be sullied by the foes 

Who 've borne repeatedly your furious blows ? 

Whom you 've as often conquered as you 've seen 7 

Who are as cowardly as they are mean ? 

Who when they saw your banners in the air, 

And eagles soaring — say, then did they dare 



♦ 



12 NAPOLEON 



To m^et yonr outraged force and nobly die, 
Or like young deer uid th3y not turn ani fly ? 

SolJiers, who love your frt-edom and your land, 
List to the s'jhem? which I your leader planned : 
Russia amongst the rest has broke her vow 
To keep inviolate a treaty : now, 
With your devoted aid, shall v/e repair 
Uiito the very tliron-^ of this great bear, 
And there inflict the chastisement that's due 
T > France's outraged hon r ! What say you? 
Dare you to follow me where now I go, 
Dauntless to all the frigid frost and snovjr 
Which binds its icy chains around his throne. 
And bids him thus assume his hausjhty tone ? 
Remember Austerlitz' glorious sun ! 
Remember well how this fierce foe there run. 
And not aione did he, the victory yield ; 
For Prussia, Austria too were in the fi Id : 
Remember then how many thousands fled 
From France uiaideJ— u iburied left their dead, 
Wi.ich tho' p-j-rhnps it al! has been in vain, 
Yet what we've done can we not do again ? 
And rest ye sure that )f we gain the day, 
For past misdeeds shall Russia dearly pay; 
And all the world shall :hu3 be leara'd the fact, 
That well as France can say, so France can act.'' 

This said — the hero rode bpfore the throng 
Of mighty warriors, shouting loud and long ; 
Whose glist'ning eyeballs seemed to start with joy, 
And hailed his mission as divine employ. 
Their shouting seemed I' exhaust their souls of breath- 
•• Long live Napoleoa ! Victory or death 1" 
And thus along the deafening ranks he rode 
Easy and graceful ; all his actions showed 



NAPOLEON. 13 



Him something more than mortal man could be, 

Worthy of being a nation's idol, he. 

Thus to the front, godlike he took his way. 

And to his panting warriors then did say : 

" Soldiers of France ! see yon tall Alps arise, 

Whose towering apex seem to kiss the skies ; 

Where the eternal snows their summits crown. 

Balmy and soft like couch of cygnet's down, 

Invitingly to tempt the towering sky 

To stay eternally — no more to fly — 

To pillow it upon its virgin breast, 

And thus securely take eternal rest. 

Soldiers ! behind those mighty Alps we see, 

Are France's enemies ; yet are you free 

To leave me to my fate and homeward go. 

If you would rather that it should be so. 

Than France should be redressed for past misdeeds, 

Which every patriot heart on knowing, bleeds ; 

Yet, if you will let France be unredressed, 

And hence at ease take your inglorious rest, 

Still, those who will revenge poor France's wrongs 

And live immortal in her grateful songs. 

Stay still with me, and strike the patriot blow ; 

And for the dastard cowards — let them go I 

France wants not them : their presence would detract 

From the nobility of our great act ; 

Men who have souls to fight in her behalf, 

France wants and will reward : a Marshal's staff 

Lies now behind the Russian's city wall. 

For those whom craven fear does not appal. 

But first within the city takes his stand, 

To wield the Marshal's baton his the hand ; 

Your foes are rich — almost beyond compare : 

Alike the spoil the victors all shall share ; 



14 NAPOLEON. 



And when returning home, to end your days 

In ease and competence, the shouts of praise 

Will spring from France's grateful heart with pride, 

And every maiden strive to be your bride. 

And every honor'd tribute you will gain, 

For having nobly served in this campaign ; 

Whilst his reward the nation's scorn shall be ^i^w,. 

Who 'd rather like a coward turn and flee. 

Yet still I say again, ye sons of France, 

Go those who will — and those who will, advance I'' 

Scarce had the words found birth, befoie the throng 
Gave forth its joy and onward moved along ; — 
Eager and swift, like coursers in the chase, 
Straining each nerve to gain the foremost place ; 
E'en murmurs broke from out the warlike train 
That all could not be first and first place gain. 

And first dashed forward of this mighty force 
Ten thousand Voltiguers — a troop of horse 
Renowned for valorous deeds o'er all the world, 
Whose banners ever floated free, unfurled 
Wlierever fury reigned in fiercest rage. 
And war's fierce demons did with man engage. 
Thus Normandy, Poictu, Anjou, Tourraine, 
Bretagne, Picardy, Provence, Lorraine, 
Caen, Chaumont, Rochelle, Paris, Boulogne, 
With Lyons, Tours, Rouen, Calais, Toulon, 
Auvergne, Languedoc, Brest, Artois, Chanipagoe, 
Picardy, Gascony, Dauphine, Maine, 
Their brave sons sent, as chivalrous as wild, 
The bravest of the brave, this band was styled. 
Next came a troop of thirty thousand men, 
Of well trained skill — the children of Mayenne, 
Charente, Vendee, Gironde, Ardenne, Garonne, 
And those whose dwellings bound the river Rhone, 



NAPOLEON, 15 



The Loire and Seine — the warlike sons of France, ', 

Themselves a host, at France's call advance. ' 

Th' Imperial Guard were they, a noble band, ; 

Well tried, who'd ne'er disgraced their native land. < 

On foot they pressed, as eager for.the fray \ 
As boys at school let loose awhile to play. 
Then came the artillery and stores 
Which heap such slaughter on the modern wars ; 
The magazines of powder, shells and balls, 
At whose dread call man's proudest fabric falls. 
Extended o'er the plain for many a mile, 

When ordered by Napoleon to defile. ; 

Next came the engineers, a noble band, | 

Most scientific they of all the land : | 

Five thousand strong they were, and not the less | 

Heroic were they that they did possess j 

More knowledge than their biothers and their friends, ; 

Altho' to peace and love sweet learning tends, { 

Still, when the soul's aroused to deeds of fame, '> 

Knowledge inspires and brighter fans the flame. \ 

Then came a band of twenty thousand Poles, ] 

Renowned for virtue and for patriot souls ; > 

Their glittering lances glistened in the sun, : 

Whose points all prudent foes would strive to shun . \ 

Of all this mighty army there were none | 

Who had the will to do, or who had done ; 

Such valorous acts as had this poble band, . '> 

Who lived alone to free their native land 
From the fierce tyranny of those vile knaves 

Who 'd made poor^Poland's sons their wretched slaves. ] 

Eager, in haste, like hounds held back from chase, | 

They seemed to wish to run a furious race, ; 

To meet their foes unaided and alone, | 

To make the toil and glory all their own. \ 



16 NAPOLEON 



Their breasts heaved high, impatient of control ; 
Hardly they breathe, and fierce their eyebaila rcll. 
Old Time appears to those a laggard soul, 
Who count, like them, the moments as they roll. 
Unasked they came to swell this great array ,- 
Their hopes seemed centered in the coming fray. 
The world to them possessed no blissful charms, 
Their injured country called them thus to arms, 
And every thought or wish, save this, had fled, 
To free their country or their life-blood shed. 
For this it was they came, for this they burned ; 
They craved the patriot's death — the tyrant's spurned. 

Then followed those most valiant volunteers, 
A troop of twice ten thousand Cuirassiers, 
Led by a General whom they all adored, 
As brave a man as ever wore a sword. 
Be there another like him where there may, 
Murat from all the army bore the sway ; 
Hair-brained and headstrong tho' he be. 
His furious charge i-ic foe could bear to see : 
The impetuous shock the fiercest force o'erthrows, 
Victory attends on him where'er he goes ; 
In fiercest charge he holds the foremost place, 
Whenever seen he 's seen with ease and grace : 
The timid foe turns sickened at his gaze ; 
Yet fleeing, shouts tumultuous in his praise. 
At war's fierce game he plays unharmed by all, 
Dauntless and graceful as a beau at ball : 
His bold companions catch the valorous fire — 
So much one hero can a host inspire. 
Where'er they go, wherever they had been, 
A host of heroes there indeed were seen. 
Then came a host more laggardly and slow ; 
No patriot fire illumes the road they go : 



NAPOLEON. 17 



Stil!, tho' their zeal is cool, compared to some, 
Few will be found, when the right time is come. 
More brave perhaps than this brave Saxon band, 
Of whom the brave Macdonald had command. 
Tho' France's honor now his soul inspires, 
Retained the valor of his Scottish sires, 
Renowned alike for valor as for truth, 
The leader was who led the Saxon youth, 
Whose host in numbers thirty thousand were, 
Whose hardy souls the hardest blows would bear. 
Who 'd never fled where'er they had been tried ; 
Where'er they fought 'twas there their brothers died. 

Next came a multitude as large as these, 
Of Austrian birth as well as Genoese : 
Next twenty thousand Prussians took the field. 
In France' iiehalf their heavy swords to wield. 
And then there came another mighty host 
Who for their birthplace prou ily coul 1 they boast 
That Italy's fair land had given them birth — * 
The fairest spot that Heaven has placed on earth, 
As veil as the most ciapsic, save for one — 
Old classic Greece — whose equU there was none j 
The hardy sons of Rome, in days of yore 
Renowned as much for wisdom as for war. 
And tho' degenera*e grown by vicious pomp, 
Their arms were ready as their souls were prompt ; 
No more the vine should claim their watchful care ; 
The vine had caused them all the woes they bear, 
The mind it made impotent, and the arm 
Unnerved, and spread its hated baneful cliarm 
Upon their souls, until at last Rome came 
To be unknown, save by its ancient name. 
But now no more with fear their souls appalled, 
Degenerate Rome no more should Rome be called, 



2# 



18 NAPOLEON. 



) The spirit that had burned within their sires 

S Should be eclipsed by tlieir descendants' fires, 

\ As each declared, as on with joy he pressed, 

His eyes indignant flashing, and each breast 
i With fury heaving, proclaimed the excited soul 

Which beamed within impatient of control. 
I Next came a stalwart, warlike German band, 

j The finest troops of all within their land ; 

A noble troop they seemed, but still they were 
Not nobler in their acts than many there, 
I Less noble looking ; some sixteen thousand strong 

') In numbers were they ; then there came a throng 

) Of many thousamls, almost of every land. 

Who came to lend a ready helping hand 
I To France in her stern need ; and +ho' they came 

j Almost unarmed, their fyes betrayed the flame 

That lurked in smouldering form within their breast, 

That said she should not long be unredressed 

For all the wrongs she was supposed to bear, 

And which to avenge had brought each soldier there 

And though almost in use of arms untried, 

As with the arms they came there unsupplied. 

Still every man possessed a hero's heart, 

Who hoped that he should play a hero's part ; 

And that the day should not far distant be 

When Marshal, he his former friends should see. 

And with a manly pride could bid them view 

What he had done and had the power to do ; 

For when the heart is strong in virtuous deeds, 

Success attends wherever Fortune leads ; 

And skill in every art is soon acquired, 

Whene'er the mind is zealously inspired, 

For where promotion nerves the soldier's arm, 

It acts immediate — sucl^ the potent charm. 



NAPOLEON. 19 



This was the cause of all that had been done \ 

In France's army since the war begun ; i 

For each expected, as his natural share, i 

A rapid rise to all who 'd bravely dare, 

As many more he knew had done before, 

Wlio 'd followed Fortune's favorite into war, \ 

From ranks as low as those in which he shared ; i 

What others e'er had done he thought he dared, 

And only prayed that he might be so blest 

With power to put his courage to the test. 

Then followed in the rear the luggage train?, 
Five thousand s'rong they numbered o'er the plains ; 
With tedious toil were they impelled along, 
And much the weary march did they prolong : 
O'er rocky hills, and then in vales below, 
Prudence compelled a tardy pace and slow ; 
And though the impetuous throng could scarce restrain 
Their grief that it was so — 'twas all in vain : 
The aged veterans had been taught before 
That prudence takes the foremost place in war. 
And last of all, there came a motley group 
Whose numbers formed a most important troop ; 
Women and children, (some in swaddling clothes,) 
Whose faithful love defied the fiercest woes : 
In ' weal or woe ' they' d sworn to be sincere. 
And now the time was come, they banished fear 
From out their breasts ; nor need it cause much wonder, 
That those God joined could not be put asunder : 
So true is woman in her virtuous love, 
Mild as the lamb, as gentle as the dove ; 
Yet when the soul is roused, then, show she can 
The lion's heart is not confined to man. 
Few deeds more noble ever have been known 
Than have been done by woman, all must own ; 



20 NAPOLEON 



And were it not for fear we should transgress, 

We might be tempted slightly to digress, 

Ani name with pride a few that swell the roll 

Of history — the deeds of woman's soul : 

But as our cause is onward — onward we 

"Will take our course, to record all we see, 

With Jews and Gentiles, those who come that way, 

Like furious vultures or wild beasts of prey, 

Who dared not join to do the daring toil, 

But came to filch and fatten on the spoil 

That others made ; and little recked they whom 

Came to an early or untimely doom : 

So that they got the wealth that each possessed, 

No qualms of conscience hovered o'er their breast : 

Each with a load of spirits held his way, 

With which to trade when forced at last to pay. 

This host of base, degenerate villains, 

Called by courtesy — per se — civilians, 

Closed up the rear of this most mighty host, 

The mightiest perhaps the world could ever boast, 

Who were content their lives and ulood to shed. 

When they by Fortune's favorite child were led ; 

No fear was found within a single heart ; 

The army's idol was Napoleon Bonaparte. 



I 

NAPOLEON: 

AN E PIC. 
BOOK THE SECOND. 

The Journey across the Alps — The Scenery — 

The Conduct of the Troops — Their Difficulties — Mt. St. Bernard - 

A Word to the Selfish and Professors — 

Stoppage for the Night at the Monastery — The Scene described — 

The Sleep — Agitation — 

The Conversation between Napol^ron and the Abbe — 

The Dream — The Warning — Napoleon's defiance of Fate — 

Journey Resumed — 

Napoleon quits the Army for Dresdrn. 



NAPOLEON, 



Over the Alps they sped for many days ; < 

Bright blue the sky, lit by refulgent rays ; ( 

The sun shone gloriously, serene the air, < 

The heart of Nature even seemed to share | 

The general joy that through the camp was seen ; <^ 

The hills and dales were all arrayed in green, *1 

The choicest dress that Nature ever wears : ] 

Her grief is seen whene' er her breast she bares ; i 

But now with radiant smiles she seemed to glow, \ 

And tempt the mighty host t' onward go. \ 

There the sweet birds with warbling notes proclaimed j 

The joy that they partook, thus free, untamed ; | 

The carolling larks — the tuneful nightingales \ 

And spotted thrush — there in the happy vales | 

Their tiny throats expanded much in size, \ 

In grateful song to Him beyond the skies ; I 
And as with love they hovered round their mates, 

Spoke of their lot as happiest of states : | 

Their warbling notes, vibrating in the air, j 

Seemed as if Eden had been stationed there. | 

The modest violet and daflbdil { 

Studded the sides of every towering hill ; I 



24 NAPOLEON. 



The primrose and the jasmin lift their heads, 
j And o'er the path delicious fragrance sheds ; 

I The daisy and the lily too were seen, 

I Adding their beauties to the sylvan scene, 

I And caused the souls of those who came to war, 

I To rise in rev'rence and their God adore, 

j Who formed such blessings for mankind to use 

' In joy and love, but never to abuse — 

i As all may see who view his works aright, 

\ ( And all may see who wish to see the sight.) 

;' The self-same plant which forms the staff of life 

I When used as 't should, is oft the cause of strife, 

I Of deadly crime, of misery and woe ; 

I Thus, when abused, becomes man's greatest foe, 

j As wiih the cane, which sheds its balmy juice, 

In man's enjoyments is of utmost use ; 
I Yet, when abused, its punishment it bears, 

] And overwhelms its vot'ries with its cares, 

I Not only causing much deceit and knavery, 

I But also death, disgrace, and slavery. 

i But on they went, and thought 't was His decree, 

And that all was as He ordained to be. 

The affrighted chamois, tempted first to flee. 

Seemed charmed to see what then its eyes did see ; 
j Allured it seemed, transfixed unto the spot, 

; And fell an easy prey to him who shot. 

I The tyrant eagle, started from its nest, 

! Its young within its talons safely prest, 

I And soaring high in air, appeared to flee 

To distant lands for more security. 
'• The haunts that long had furnished its retreat. 

Were all forsook when trod by human feet. 

And all the haunts of furious marauders, 
j Who swarmed in bands the Alpine borders, 



NAPOLEON. 25 \ 



Were uprooted, and thus were made to flee, 

And so destroyed the irsecurity 

That trav'lers had endure J, who wished to roam 

And find enjoyment in an Alpine home, 

For ages past — no more to be endured ; 

An i thus uninterrupiion was secured. 

Onward, stil; onward, the host pursued its track; 
None turn or wish to tar,), his footsteps back, 
Round the high Alps ai.d in the val^s below ; 
Then they advance to wht-re perpetual snow 
Is ever seen, and o'er the slipp'ry era.; 
And dark abyss the luggasre they 've to drag: 
Dauntiessly the toil they seem to undergo, 
Despair they know not nor can seem to know. 
Napoleon 'midst the ranks e'er rode to cheer : 
Wherever danger was, thfn hp was near; 
O'er slipp'ry precipice or yawning cliasai 
He rode unmoved — altho' a spasm 
Shot t!iroug'i the hr-arts of all who saw him ride, 
Who, though themselves all danger did deritie, 
They feared lor him ; and as his charger fl-nv 
O'er the dark abyss, no care they knew, 
And followed onwards as a thing of course ; 
What they feared him to do brought no remorse 
Into their hfarts to do, but on they came 
With joy, adn glorified his name : 
And when some daring soul proci-eds too near 
The dark abyss which hence becomes his bier, 
He think-! not of hi nself : his awful doom 
Is unregarded — careless of the tomb, 
He shouts stentorious, as he topp'es o'er, 
VivR Napoleon I Vive I'Empereur ! 
Wherein h'S comrades join the tuneful choir, 
In praise of one whom all their souls admire. 



26 NAPOLEON. 



And all the skillfulness this host possessed 
Was needed on the weary road they pressed. 
The engineers displayed their wonted tact, 
And formed a road across this mighty tract 
Of wild, mountainous, frigid, barren soil, 
And zealously performed their weary toil 
With mighty wisdom, and they left behind 
Eternal traces of their glorious mind. 
Bridges and viaducts were thrown across' 
The mightiest chasms, at but little loss 
Of time to those who followed in the rear. 
And onward sped in haste to make all clear, 
Although the air became, each step, more rare. 
And breathing came more difficult to bear, 
And fainting sickness overtook them oft, 
The more, the higher that they went aloft. 
Still they went on, nor stopped for that alone, 
Despite the pains of flesh, or blood, or bone ; 
But often as they struck the lusty stroke. 
The brittle iron, now more brittle, broke ; 
But still they struck their mighty strokes amain, 
Nor were these weary strokes all struck in vain, 
As ages hence will prove to those who go 
Over those fields of Irigid frost and snow. 

The task is hard to those who 'd strive to show 
How nobly some behave, whilst that they know 
Nobly all act — while each performs his part 
Like men, who, what they do, have that at heart ; 
Men whom devotion to their cause inspires, 
Whose glorious souls no labor ever tires. 
Not like those men whom servile interest leads. 
Whose souls would fain attempt at noble deeds, 
But that they do not understand their parts, 
Because they have not got the proper hearts ; 



NAPOLEON. 27 



Whose base conceptions, judging from their minds, 

In noblest acts a selfish purpose finds. 

" It must be so," ihey cry, " else who would iare 

Step from the herd of human kind to share 

In sympathy of wo, distress or shame, 

Unless it be to get a sainted name ? 

'Tis very well to try to make believe, 

But men like us you cannot well deceive ; 

The man that actions such as these can do. 

Must have self-interest somewhere close in view." 

Yet, after all, perhaps they 're in the right : 
Distress unto the sympathetic sight 
Produces pain, so infinitely fierce 
As when a sharp-edged sword the flesh shall pierce ; 
And what produces pain, of course must be 
(By those who have the power to be free) 
Endeavored to be cured ; and so in fact 
It is self-interest prompts the generous act ; 
But 'lis not this they mean, but strive to show 
That there are other motives still belaw, 
As honors, titles, and the world's applause, 
Which every truly Christian heart abhors. 
The man whose heart directs the kindly act, 
Does what he can to strive conceal the fact ; 
Th' internal joy he feels whilst still concealed. 
Is much diminished when the fact's revealed ; 
And every word of praise to him addressed 
Takes from without his sympathising breast 
So much of that wiiieh he alone enjoyed : 
The glory's greater but llip joy's destroyed. 
Suflice it that they all were firm and true, 
And each did all he had the power to do ; 
No one could say who strived or did the most ; 
Each man became of all this host a host. 



28 NAPOLEON 



Onward llipy dash ! Saint Bernard's is before — 
The home of those who ope' the willing door 
To all oppressed by weary wo or pain. 
Or those who 'd succor or relief obtain ; 
To help them on their way to distant hnds 
St. Bernard's Monks possess most willing hands. 

Far from the wibs and pomps of ciiy life, 
They are content, who, dwelling free from strife, 
Have little wants and these have all supplied. 
And have a ''eart that's willing to divide 
The superfluities they may possess, 
With thost? unfortunates whose dire distress 
Makps them to mourn with strength to lie, 
Or feel their only solace is to die ;■ 
They 're rich who have enough, nor sigh for more. 
Nor envy those who have a greater store. 

Thus 'twas thnt these kind Ben edict me /rercs 
With mourning hearts the monrnful fueling shares, 
Or strive the weary stra ger to beguile. 
And wh'^re th^y find a sish to leave a smile. 
There flocked the poor, the sick and tlie oppressed ; 
The heavy la !en there found vv?lcome rest, 
And those distress had early learnt to sin, 
ForiJook its haunts and better lives begin. 

No pomp or state beguile them of their time, 
They war w;t!i none save Avarice anJ Crime ; 
On b?d of death they soothe the dying hour. 
And calm the atTrighteJ soul with holy pawer. 
Not torn by frictions, striving after place, 
Tnat on proA^ssors heap su ;h deep disgrace, 
Who do m words profess they do forego 
All vaiiil/ things — yet do in a tions sliovv 
Th'^y 're panJerers to princes, lords and king', 
And such Ilk? earihvvor.n perishable things. 



NAPOLEON. 29 



For thoir promotions, for their tithes and tenths, 

For lawn and titles and to throw their lengths 

In lazy indolence, in easy state, 

And caring little for tl^e wretched fate 

01 those who mourn, who starve or die. 

But rest ye sure, professors, hy and by 

The time will come, and you will find at length 

Your future weakness in your present strength, 

When \ou will mourn in sorrow oVr your woe3, 

And own your actions were your greatest foes. 

If to avert it is your real dfsire, 
Lf*t these good men to goodness you inspire. 
Occasion calls not for such great denials 
As they 're content to bear — other trials 
Remain for you elsewhere to undergo 
Than thus amidst perpetual frost and snow. 
And those who wish may plenty find to do 
To prove tiiey 're men of faith sincere and true. 

Hark to the barking of the fii^ndly dogs ! 
See where they come uncalled — none ever flogs 
These faithful friends of man to do his will ; 
The dog was aye man's friend and is so still. 
To many weary trav'lers have they borne 
Kind heaven's unhoped relief, who else, forlorn, 
Must needs have perished in th' unbeaten track, 
Did the St. Bernard's do? his courage lack. 
The kindly monks, awaiting at the gate, 
Whose ancient Abbot, long past man's estate, 
Had passed a life of kindliness and love, 
Taught by the precepts of that One above. 
His life now drawing to a narrow span, 
No eartl.ly favors he desired of man ; 
To do his duty to mankind at large, 
Was all he strived to do, and well the charge 



3* 



W NAPOLEON 



He had performed ; and now, with years oppressed, 

He only hoped to find eternal rest. 

F5"r favor he ne'er fawned, nor did he fear 

The frown of any earthworm — him sincere 

Spoke as he thought, to peasant and to peer, 

In manly tones of voice, concise and clear. 

Him at the gate — Napoleon quick dismounts, 
And all his wishes and his wants recounts ; 
Which, when he heard, the old man quick replied, 
*' Welcome, my son, your wants shall be supplied. 
Such as our humble means allow shall you 
Be welcome here, in all to say or do ; 
So that it be no deed of guilt or shame. 
To bring discredit on God's holy name. 
Our lowly cells will keep you warm and dry. 
Our choicest food shall all your wants supply, 
Though humble fare I fear the best you '11 think : 
Bread is our chiefest food-^no wine we drink, 
To bring disorder, ruin and confusion, 
Within our holy walls by our profusion. 
But of the generous stream which Nature yields 
Jn blest abundance — to refresh the fields. 
Thus to sustain poor, helpless, fainting man. 
And g've him all a bounteous Nature can, 
"To make him h^ppy while on earth below 
(He who 's content will never feel the woe 
That man continual mourns.) If this to you, 
My son, will be acceptable, pray do 
Our humble dwelling share, to which you are 
By Him who brought you from your homes thus far, 
As welcome as ourselves — who were placed here 
To tell you thus, when thus you should appear." 

Him said, Napoleon, with a lowly bow 
To him replied : *' Aged father, though we now 



NAPOLEON. 31 



Crave your permission for a while to slay 
Which you in gentleness declare we may, 
For which I am obliged, and on behalf 
Of my own obligations and my staff, 
Desire to express my hum'jlest thanks 
That we 're unforced to litter m the ranks 
Jn this wild, dreary mount, as else 'twould be 
But for your generous hospitality : 
But as for food we 'vc every need supplied. 
And shall be honored if you will preside 
With US at our board, and what we 've there, 
As you have done with us, we '11 freely share.'' 
** My son,'' the good old man exclaimed, 
*' From savory diets we 've so long abstained, 
Perhaps 'twould do us harm were we to join 
With you in your repast : I would enjoin 
You then to spare us for at least the while, 
That you from weary toil yourselves beguile ; 
We to our matins, the meanwhile to pray 
For Heaven's aid to help us through the day." 

Him said, the aged Abbot led the way 
Into a hall; and then did soon display 
A blazing fire to revive the group 
Of frost-numbed officers, a mighty troop. 
The blazing embers shed their grateful glow 
O'er those who long had traversed in the snow ; 
Their limbs unnumbed, their spirits too set free, 
And each seemed full of merriment and glee : 
So soon is toil and weariness forgot 
By those accustomed to a changeful lot. 

The army too partook the general joy : 
Each warrior did his utmost haste employ, 
T' arrange a spot whereon t<' take their rest : 
The camp fires lit, their rations soon were dressed 



32 »A.FOL.EO>N 



At first, confusion for av/hile each sees, 

For all became as active as are bees ;. 

But soon disorder ceased and older reigned ;; 

To make it so, each one his utmost strained ;; 

But still the sight which broke upon th** view 

Was strange to those to whom the scene was new, 

The waving, clouded smoke soared not, high, there,. 

By reason of the rarity of air, 

Put rather fell to earth, and denser made 

The ground on which the army then waslaid^ 

As though with heavy fog — the air perfumed 

With burning fuel imperfectly consumed. 

Seemed charged, and was with its sulphurous smell,. 

Like some describe who tiy to picture Hell ; 

And as the night set in, the mount seemed changed 

To Pandemonium depths, where Horror ranged 

Free from restraint, to take his direful way, 

Unrheered by Hope, unlit by light of day. 

The human forms, in scarlet dress and blue, 

Seemed all converted to a ghastly hue. 

The shining helmet and the bright breastplate 

Served rather to increase it than abate. 

Those who most pleasing in the day appeared, 

Were now become most worthy to be feared ; 

And when some forms less tired than the rest 

Performed some antic — humorous or grotesque. 

The effect seemed heightened, and the scene became 

Almost more startling than we like to name. 

The repast all o'er, each fell upon the ground, 

And soon were wrapt in reverie profound. 

Save a few sentries, who, with half-closed eyes, 

At stations watched in case of a surprise ; 

Though this was more from habit than from use ; 

But to precaution war permits no truce. 



NAPOI/EON. 33 



So in the hall they slppt where they bad sat, 

An! each appeared as sound asleep in that 

As if th^y in a sleep of death had been,. 

So tired were they with toils which they had seen. 

Amidst this band there sat the kinirof men ; 
His sleep was fitful — every now and rh-en 
He seemed to start affrighted from hia seat, 
Until at last he rose upon his feet, 
Expanded his nostrils, and his breast b<*came 
Convulsive ; action spread o'er all his frame ; 
His eyeballs rolled, and his stern brow seemed kni? 
Like one who 's sufFermg from a violent fit ; 
la agony of mind he looked nround,^ 
But every soul locked fast in sleep he found : 
Passing them lightly, unwilling to avvake, 
His way along the monastery to lake^ 
To gaze observant on thf scene around ; 
Passing along the corridor, he found 
A light reflected trom a distant ceil, 
And heard a voice he thought he knew full well, 
Oifering a prayer in humble, suppliant voiie, 
* That man's salvation might be heaven s choice.' 
The warrior king th?n lowly bent his head 
[n rev'rent admiration, as he said, 
Whilst that he stood a suppliant at the door, 
•* O holy man, in mercv let me pour 
My inmost sorrows in your gentle ear, 
That you on hearing may my spirit cheer : 
Til It joy once more may reassure my heart, 
An 1 1 with ease perform my wonted part." 

The door was opened by the honry sage : 
" With joy, my s-on, your grief I Ml try assuage," 
Hi said, and quickly 1(;J him to a seat 
B^'side a window ol his lone retreat. 



NAPOLEON 



" Tell me your sorrows and from whence they spring, 

And if to you through counsel I can bring 

A happy mind, — your joy I'll gladly share, 

Or strive my utmost to divert your care ; 

For naught's so hard to bear that I can find, 

Compared to rooted sorrow in the mind. 

The bodys evils oft the Leech can heal. 

But with man's mind he scarce knows how to deal." 

♦' Father, this night as now I took my rest, 
In sleep I grew disturbed, by grief oppressed ; 
A vision spread itself before mine eyes, 
And filled my soul with horror and surprise : 
Methought I saw my own, my much loved child, 
Whose leatures grew distorted, fiercely wild : 
Methought I heard its shrilly infant voice. 
Which did at home so oft my soul rejoice. 
In playful prattlings — now grown loud and fierce. 
Whose furious menaces my soul did pierce : 
Twice have I seen this self-same vision rise ; 
Each time more fiercely seemed it to mine eyes. 
' No further go,' at last it fiercely cried, 
* Twice have 1 warned you, but fierce woe betide 
If you should now my present warning spurn, 
Nor bid your army to their homes return ; 
You shall no more of peace or rest e'er know. 
And every act shall lead to greater woe. 
Take heed in time, and thus in mercy spare 
The lives of those who all your woes will share. 
Though you alone the cause of all shall be 
To them of all their pains and misery.' 
Thus saying, with a noise unearthly wild. 
The ground engulphed the siiadow of my child. 
Starting with fear, I leapt upon the ground 
And saw my officers asleep all round. 



NAPOLEON. 35 



Unwilling to arouse, I came this way and saw 
Your taper shining through your creviced door, 
And heard you pray, with supplicating voice, 
' That man's salvation might be heaven's choice,' 
And hoped that you would listen to my grief, 
And by your wisdom I might gain relief; 
For now my fancy turns me almost wild — 
I fear some mis'ry to my much-loved child " 

Him said, the aged Abbot then begun. 
With soothing gentleness of voice : " My son, 
On dreams in general I place but little heed, 
For oft past actions will the fancy lead 
In many ways,, to strange surmises, when 
Til** body rests, from taking part in them. 
Still, as your dream has caused you some alarm, 
Let us by reason strive your fear disarm : 
Tell me whate'er you think it right to do ; 
The mighty motives that now influence you ; 
Whither you 're boUnd, and what 't is prompts you most, 
To come this way with such a mighty host : 
When I the case shall know, then perhaps I may, 
With heaven's assistance, point to you a way 
To ease you of the load that weighs your soul 
To weariness, despite the mind's control.'' 

'• Father, 'tis thus ; perhaps you are aware 
That France's Emperor 't is who claims your care : 
Raised from the herd to take the sovereign rule, 
I have been early trained in Fortune's school ; 
In great events, to on myself rely, 
And few have dared to do more than have I. 
Led by my will as well as by my deeds, 
In every war the arms of France succeeds, 
In conq'ring ever and defeating those 
Who are to France, as well as Freedom, foes. 



I 36 NAPOLEON. 



Having obtained for France this great decree, 

My fate being bound to her high destiny, 

Bude me accept the throne that I had raised 

From ruin, where, alas ! it long had blazed ; 

But this I did not, dare to do, until 

The votes of millions proved the people's w^ill ; 

To this I bowed, then took the royal rod. 

And deemed ilie nation's voice the voice of God. 

In sweet content awhile I passed my life. 

Blessed with the love of a most faithful wife, 

Who every act did do that could be done. 

Save only this — she g-ave me not a son : 

She was the m )ther of a noble boy, 

But by a former husltand — Beauharnois. 

This griev* d me sore, to think siie did not bear 

To ni" a son who might my fortune share ; 

An;l though I loved her as my very life, 

I thought France bade me take another wife, 

So that I miglit not leave the throne unfilled 

In case that I shoul 1 hnppeu to he killed ; 

That there might be no more the friglittui scene 

Of dread confusion that there erst ha 1 been. 

This, then, I did, wjth sorrow I will own, 

For much I loved her who had shared my throne. 

A virtuous woman and a gracious Queen, 

Was rny first wife, the Empress Josephine ; 

For though the breath of slander taints her name 

With actions vil'anous and fraught with shame, 

She was as virtuous as a woman should ; 

I ever found her faithful, kind and good : 

But France demanded that 1 should forego 

My own desires, and I consented ; so. 

Against dear Josephine I got decrees, 

And hence divorced her ; and Marie Louise 



NAPOLEON. 37 



I took of Austria, hence to share my throne, 

And hoped some day a son to call my own. 

And hoped from cares I should henceforth be free, 

But that, alas ! was not my fate to be ; 

For he who fills the mighty Russian throne 

Wished for my power to support his own ; 

Which, as I chose not to accept, then he 

Broke all his treaties which he 'd sworn to me 

To keep inviolate, and he strove to ruin 

All my best projects, to France's undoing ; 

And 'stead of keeping a complete blockade 

Against my English foes, he let them trade 

In all his ports, which thus had the effect 

Of cheering their career I wished to check ; 

For all their strength lies in their foreign trade. 

This once destroyed, my own terms I 'd have made, 

And forced them to submit unto my will. 

Who ever were my foes, and are so stil 1 ; 

Who 're so determined to cheek my career, 

Themselves they 're ruining, and every year 

Are adding to a mighty debt they owe, 

Which will eventually the nation throw 

In total bankruptcy, and those who 're left 

At last will be of all their wealth bereft. 

If I can only this event survive 

I have no fear, I shall be sure to thrive : 

If I can only stop their foreign trade, 

Better 't will be than if I 'd even made 

The attempt to land upon their rocky shore, 

Which I designed, but which at length forbore ; 

Not that I could not cross the mighty ocean 

Through lack of length of tidal motion, 

As they pretend to think, now that the scheme 

Has been abandoned, for more safe I deem 



\ 38 NAPOLEON. 



The plan to be that I am now pursuing, 

And much more likely to produce their ruin : 

If I destroy their continental trade, 

By keeping up a gen'ral strict blockade, 

Their power will be gone me to annoy. 

And I, in peace, my life shall hence enjoy. 

Therefore to Russia, now, I take my way. 

For past misconduct he shall dearly pay ; 

For so 't is written in my fate's decree. 

That all the world shall succomb unto me. ^' 

'* My son," the Abbe cried, whilst a huge tear 

Rolled down his cheeks, " I mourn, indeed, to hear 

That thou hast hecn the author of such acts, 

Which from the greatness of your life detracts 

So vastly. And in earnestness, I pray 

You to forbear to proceed on your way 

Of vengeful ire, and tempt not heaven's high wrath, 

But turn back home, when hence you issue forth, 

And take the warning that your vision gave, 

And thus, yourself and mighty army save ; 

And by repentance and continued prayer 

Implore of Heaven you in mercy spare. 

For your misdeeds are flagrant as they 're vile, 

(They cheat themselves, who would themselves beguile 

Into a wrong belief, and do deceive 

Themselves the most of all who do believe, 

And strive to palliate a crime they know 

That they 've committed : dost thou not say so ?) 

For which the time will come when heaven will chide.'' 

Thus said he, when his listener fiercely cried, 

" Father, forbear ! if I 've done wrong, indeed 

'T was all to serve my nation in her need ; 

And where the motive 's good the act is then 

All that high heaven can expect of men." 



i- 



NAPOLEON. 39 



" No more it does, but when the motives are 

Found hid in causes very different far, 

In self-aggrandisement, ambition's sway, 

The case is different — list my son, I pray. 

Kind Heaven had chosen you to fill a post 

Of highest honor that your land could boast ; 

Had given you one to share your lot in peace, 

To share your sorrows and your joy increase ; 

Had given you all it thought it right to give 

To make you blest, whilst you on earth should live ; 

And in return had made your land your care. 

That past misdeeds your conduct might repair ; 

That you no interest, save the general weal. 

Should have at heart and private duties feel : 

Debarred you of the ties you strove to bear, 

And made mankind alone your studious care ; 

But not content with this, you needs must be 

Guilty of outrage on humanity ; 

You who should ever foremost led the way 

To honor God and all his laws obey. 

Her whom kind heaven had given you for a mate, 

Whom you admit was worthy of her state. 

You did divorce — -expressly 'gainst God's word^ 

And did deserve all that has hence occurred ; 

And very likely from yourselves may spring, 

(Though not from you direct, most mighty king !) 

One whom the destinies of France may lead 

To greater glories than to you 're decreed, 

Whilst him for whom you have so much designed, 

Whom to beget you 've so outraged mankind, 

May be cut off in early youth from life. 

And Austria's daughter be a widowed wife. 

For many a year, whilst you, (be not enraged ;) 

May on some dreary isle be watched and caged. 



40 NAPOLEON 



But for that action, Russia, unaggrieved. 
Would not have broke her treaties or deceived, 
And all the good you hoped by that to gain 
You would have been most likely to attain ; 
But novi^ be sure wronged Heaven will not permit 
Such acts to pass unpunished, nor is 't fit ; 
Therefore, its fury farther do not dare, 
But hence devote, in penitence and prayer. 
Your leisure hours ; or, should you it provoke. 
Annihilation will attend its stroke." 

This when he said — Napoleon mused awhile : 
At length there spread across his face a smile. 
As on the sky he gazed : " See'st yonder star 
Shining in heaven," he cried, " more brightly far 
Than all the rest ? that little star controls 
The fate of nations and of myriad souls ; 
That star was seen the night that I was born, 
Shining primevally : turn not in scorn 
Away, old man — indeed it is the truth, 
A fact told by my friends, whilst yet in youth 
It leaped above the world and 's ever been 
Most luminous in space — tho 't ne'er was seen 
Before my birth — then is 't not right for me 
To deem that star — my star of destiny ? 
And there 'tis shining glorious as before : 
Then what care I for aught — 1 '11 on to war. 
And care still less whate'er my acts may be 
Gainst Heaven, or Man, or Peace, or Liberty." 
"Forbear, my son ! on knees I here implore. 
Trust not wronged Heaven to support your war. 
Or ruin and disaster will attend : 
And Heaven' s assistance will your foes befriend ; 
If as I deem it should turn out to be 
That Heaven is wroth at your impurity, 



NAPOLEON. 41 



It will adopt the very means you took 

To punish you — when you its paths forsook, 

Like some brute beast that none hath skill to tame, 

Devoid all power — save but in your name." 

Him said, the old man sat him calmly down: 
Then cried Napoleon with a furious frown : 
** Monk ! it is false ! and if it true should be, 
I'll conquer Fate — Fate shall not conquer me.'' 

Him said, he strode impatient from the cell, 
His eyes with fury flashing — his footsteps fell 
With heavy sound upon the stony floor, 
As on he went and slammed the heavy door, 
And cried, convulsively, with furious tones, 
" Soldiers, arise ! no longer be like drones ; 
Cast off the heavy lethargy which binds 
Your daring souls and captivates your minds ; 
Gird on your swords, and let the trumpets sound, 
And let us march to where we now are bound. 
The morning breaks, the day will soon be here ; 
When we should march, like sloths we all appear. 
Let the drums sound — to horse and haste away ; 
My soul 's aroused, impatient at delay.'' 

Up sprang they all, and in a moment more 
The trumpet's sound is echoed o'er and o'er; 
Along the camp was heard the deafening din, 
The startled army soon their march begin ; 
The chargers dash along the crisping ground, 
By rest refreshed, with sprightly antics bound ; 
The toiling troops that day again begun 
To do as they the day before had done ; 
To which at first confusion general leads, 
Which discipline and order then succeeds, 
Whilst morning sheds its lambent beams on all, 
And drew aside the night's deep sombre pall, 



4=^ 



42 NAPOLEON. 



That hung o'er nature's charms, and hid from view 

The glorious colors of their native hue ; 

The genial sun the fertile earth then w^ooed 

By night's strong pow'r to her sweet self renewed, 

Shed o'er the earth its mild refulgent ray. 

And thus was sire to another day. 

Held by the misty clouds that hung below, 

Its rainbow tints reflected on the snow, 

A gorgeous splendor spread o'er all the scene, 

A sight as charming as could well be seen. 

With fury foaming, his high spirit fretted, 
Like a good child spoiled by being petted, 
Napoleon rode, his mind filled full of spleen — 
No grandeur saw in the imposing scene 
Of varied tints reflected on the snow : 
He only cared to strike a mighty blow 
Against a land that had defied his force, 
The which to punish was his present course. 
Internal fire did his spirit parch 
Impatient, he could not endure to march 
As he before had done, with pace so slow 
As the whole army were compelled to go, 
But turned around impetuous, and cried 
To one who ever rode close by his side — 
" Murat ! to you I '11 leave the army's care, 
Whilst I to Dresden for awhile repair : 
My vassal Kings are waiting for me there, 
And some of them have forces they must spare.'' 



NAPOLEON: 

AN EPIC. 
BOOK THE THIRD. 

Dresden — 

Napoleon's Reception — His Drawing-room of Kings- 

Increases hia Army and resumes his March — 

Futurity. 



NAPOLEON 



Hark ! the tumultuous shouts which rend the air 

Round Dresden's walls — behold Napoleon 's there ! 

He midst the throng of Princes and of Kings 

Is there pre-eminent ; the welcome rings 

The more for him than all the rest beside, 

Though Caesar's offspring 's even by his side, 

And many more who claim descent by birth, 

From noblest men that ever trod on earth ; 

No thought but is for him, fills any's mind, 

And he they deem the greatest of mankind ; 

Who hail him " King of Kings — the first 'mong men 

That ever lived or e'er can live again ;'' 

To him alone the gods seem to incline 

And give a power to do almost divine : 

Whilst churchmen bless, and laymen breath a prayer 

For his eternal glory and welfare. 

And e'en the Kings a willing pref'rence pay 

To him whose nods the mightiest force obey. 

That long has been, if ever seen before, 

By one man led to scenes of strife or war ; 

Whose fates they know are held within his hands. 

None dare resist, and who, whale'er he plans, 

Themselves are ready hence to carry out ; 

It matters little what they are about, 



j 46 NAPOLBON 



They '11 every toil and every danger brave, 

For none 's so willing as a willing slave. 

See, when he holds his drawing-room of Kings, 

How each to Fortune's favorite firmly clings 

For his support, and strives, by cunning wiles, 

By every means they can, to gain his smiles. 

Although their brows are girt by regal crowns. 

They fear for naught as they do fear his frowns. 

And see the herd of humble flatt'rers round, 

Whose servile bows their heads most touch the ground. 

Behold, how he deserves their utmost praise, 

And how for their devotion well he pays ; 

What noble titles and what rich broad lands 

To each are given, by his liberal hands. 

E'en he who reigns upon the Saxon throne 

Is half afraid to swear his soul 's his own ; 

And rather than a King appears to be 

A valet or a ' maitre du ceremonie.' 

Then who need wonder, with the might he bears, 

That he succeeds with every thing he dares : 

Not that success depends on force alone, 

For skill may oft for want of force atoae, 

When men are strung for valiant deeds by zeal, 

And that which they profess they really feel, 

It matters little where they learn their trade. 

They well-trained vet'rans very soon are made, 

A more than match for thrice the force they brave, 

Who have no zeal but of a hired slave ; 

As records of past ages plainly show 

To those who wish this curious fact to know ; 

And were it not by reason of the fear 

Which we possess, that we should hence appear 

On this or t' other side of the Atlantic 

We wish to be, or that we are pedantic, 



NAPOLEON. 47 



We might the world's past history unfold, 

And prove the truth of what we here have told, 

How those who have by zeal been nerved. 

Have in the fiercest fray remained nor swerved. 

Though many fold their numbers did oppress, 

The same in arms, save but in spirit less. 

And who at length were forced to quit the field, 

Or to the weaker force obliged to yield : 

Nor are we sorry to escape the toil 

That would on us deservedly recoil ; 

For instances so numerous would be found, 

If that we did as we in duty bound 

Should do — to name them all — which heaven defend. 

The longest life would not bring to an end ; 

But do prefer to follow in the train 

Of him who 's new resumed his march again. 

With some few added to his former force, 
He mounts his steed and onward takes his course. 
His armament to join, and on the way 
Attended by a troop for a whole day 
Of mighty Princes, Emperors and Kings, 
Dukes, Lords and Counts, and such like titled things, 
Wko seemed at last reluctantly to part 
From him — if sighs proclaim th' unwilling heart, 
And who with many protestations swore 
They hoped success would 'tend upon the war ; 
But whether good or ill, whate'er it be, 
Than them not one more faithful he should see : 
And so they parted, each on his own way. 
To meet again perhaps some future day ; 
But when ? or how ? ah ! who is there can know 
What wondrous changes a short time will show ? 
If we the future could only scan, 
How great a treasure would it be to man ! 



— 4 

48 NAPOLE0N. > 

Yet, after all, is there any living, 

Who to the future has not some misgiving? 

Who rather dreads than wishes to surmise 

Whether his fate 's to lessen or to rise. 

For though 't would cheer the low desponding heart 

To know that fate reserves a happier part 

For them to play than then they may enjoy, 

Still hope's sweet solace yields the greater joy, 

Which, when fulfilled, is not to be compared 

With those delights they fancied to have shared : 

And who is there who 'd wish to know their doom, 

Or when they 'd be a tenant of the tomb ? 

The solitary tomb ! sure, none would crave 

To learn the mysteries of the silent grave: 

And where is he who wishes e'er to know 

How soon his present friend may be his foe ? 

How each delight which now by him 's enjoyed, 

Would be by this eternally destroyed ! 

How soon from those we love we 're to be tore 

By our sad fate — to meet on earth no more ? 

How soon our present lot may be much worse, 

And present blessings be a future curse ? 

How those on whose support we now depend 

May be no more — no more us to befriend ? 

By knowing sorrow and expecting some, 

The joy is greater when the joy does come ; 

But those who hope^to pass through life 

Known but to joy, unknown to strife, 

Feel with repining every little ill, 

And think each trifle is ordained to kill : 

Be sure that this most truly will be found 

By those who on life's voyage may be bound, 

That in expectancy one's gladness lies, 

And he 's insane who would be future wise. 



NAPOLEON: 

AN EPIC. 
BOOK THE EIGHTH. 

The Battle-^ 
The Crisis *=-The Likeness -^ The Beginning of the End. 



NAPOLEON. 



The day was doubtful ; still the chances were 
That he would be victorious even there. 
The legions were engaged in deadliest strife, 
And tens of thousands were deprived of life : 
Each hour the contest raged— all tried to serve 
The cause of France, excepting the reserve — 
The veteran band, in bloody fields who 'd earned 
The name Invincible— whose bosoms burned 
To be let loose once more upon those foes 
Who had so often felt their mighty blows ; 
The Imperial Gaurd had but to charge once more, 
To put an end to this most bloody war ; 
The Russian force could never from that day 
Have e'er been seen, as then, in fierce array. 
" Ah ! ha ! ye bears," the Emperor gaily cried, 
*• I have ye now, who 've been so long defied : 
The day is mine : too long you 've been at large ! 
Up my brave guards, and onward to the cha — !" 
From furious anger now he changed and smiled, 
Whilst gazing on the likeness of his child. 
Just brought from France — but one moment more 
The words had issued and the war was o'er ; 



52 NAPOLEON 



But now in vain his tender feelings tried, 

The hero melted and the father cried. 

Napoleon mused nor cared for battles won ; 

His only thought was of his darling son: 

The guards with anxious hearts were forced to stand 

With useless power for lack of his command. 

Alas ! alas ! there ne'er again was seen 

The chance to conquer which that day had been ; 

For fresh supplies refreshed the Russian power, 

That had been useless in another hour. 

Save but for this delay he had been put to flight 

With myriads slaughtered who survived the fight. 

To conquer him at last, who had before 

Knowa no defeat in any previous war. 



NAPOLEON: 

AN EPIC. 
BOOK THE TENTH. 

Napoleon's Humanity — 

The Soldier's Dog — The Pillage of the Dead — Inhumanity — 

Retribution. 



5# 



NAPOLEON. 



Beside a lifeless soldier lay a dog, 

Whose fond endearments strove to rouse to life 

That soul which ne'^er again would wake to strife. 

Seen by a brute encased in human frame, 

To rob the dead or dying — 'twas he Came ; 

It mattered little to this two-legged beast 

If life remained, or if that it had ceased. 

To pillage all he could from friend or foe. 

If any wanted mercy, none he 'd know : 

And if they had but strength left to resist, 

His murderous knife soon caused them to desist. 

Foiled by the dog in his attempts to plunder, 

He vented forth his rage in voice of thunder, 

And swore he 'd be revenged, and drew his knife 

Intent to take away the poor dog's life. 

Napoleon saw, and seeing, orders gave, 

In accents mild, the poor dog's life to save : 

•' Nay, hurt him not, but rather treat him well ; 

He did not leave his master, tho' he fell : 

'T is more, methinks, than many men would do: 

The dog may teach men lessons to be true." 

But this did not the ruffian's purpose suit, 

Who in a moment killed the faithful brute. 



56 NAPOLEON. 



This, when he saw, Napoleon aimed a blow 
Which very soon the two-legged brute laid low, 
Though not with force enough to cause his death, 
But to deprive him for awhile of breath. 
Bat shortly there another rufRan came, 
Whose occupation seemed to be the same 
As his had been who lay there at his length, 
Minus awhile of his accustomed strength ; 
Then how he fared we can't exactly tell, 
But fancy that it was not very well : 
For much of what he had been known to own, 
To this one's hands had somehow strangely flown 
A few days after, who would not declare 
If e'en he could, but that it was all fair ; 
Nor was he seen from that eventful day 
By any who could of his welfare say. 



NAPOLEON: 

AN EPIC. 
BOOK THE TWELFTH. 

The Intercepted Letter— The Wife's Piea for her Husband, 
Napoleon's Clemency. 



NAPOLEON. 



Whilst thus engaged with soul-consuming ire, 

The door was opened and a page cried, " Sire ! 

A lady wishes much yourself to see 

On questions of extreme emergency ; 

With supplicating voice she does implore 

You '11 hear her for a moment — if no more." 

Nap. "What name bears she sir page ? did you enquire 7" 

Page. " She said her name was Hatzfield, gracious Sire." 

Nap. " Well, then, admit her, tho' too well 1 know 

What she would ask — that I should mercy show 

Unto her traitor husband ; but he dies 

As surely as to-morrow's sun shall rise*" 

The page with an obeisance low retired, 

And with a lady modestly attired 

Soon he returned ; whom when the Emperor saw, 

Became more gentle than he was before ; 

Her features were well formed, her face was fair, 

Her eyes light blue, in silken curl her hair ; 

Her form was slender and by no means strong, 

And that a mother she would be ere long 

Napoleon with compassion plainly sees : 

With frantic grief she fell down on her knees 

And for awhile for utt'rance vainly tried. 

At length, with sobbing voice, she wildly cried— 



\ 60 NAPOLEO 



" Oh, mercy, Sire ! have mercy on piy grief. 
And give my bleeding, breaking heart relief : 
My husband, whom I love by far more high 
Than all the vi^orld beside, 's condemned to die ; 
Condemned, too, wrongly — on my life I dare 
On his fidelity with firm reliance swear ; 
Give him a hearing and his life you 'II save, 
And me and one unborn snatch from the grave ; 
You who 're a father know a father's fears ; 
Then pray, have mercy on my burning tears : 
Spare him awhile — then hear him and you '11 save, 
And prove yourself compassionate as brave. 

Napoleon with emotion saw her grief. 
By soothing accents strove to give relief. 
And raised her from the floor into a chair, 
And thus began : "I pray you to forbear 
Yo'jr grief intemperate : if, as you say. 
Your lord is faithful, answer me, I pray : 
Would he this letter to my foes have sent, 
And ofTer'd to betray me as he meant ? 
Is not this letter written by his hand ? 
Behold the traitorous scheme which there is planned ! 
Can any doubt remain ? Is it not clear ? 
Does not his treason plainly here appear 7 
Then tell me truly, lady, why should I 
Have mercy on him ? why should he not die?" 

With trembling fear the missive then she took, 
Although most anxious — most afraid to look 
Upon the hated scrawl which she held firm, 
For fear her eyes her hearing should confirm ; 
And as the letter anxiously she read, 
A livid pallor o'er her features spread ; 
Her bosom heaved a long, convulsive sigh, 
And cried, " Alas ! 'tis true I then he must die ! 



NAPOLEON. 61 



Oh, woe is me, that e'er I saw this day ! 
Farewell, my Sire ! 't is useless here to stay ; 
Although to me he has been ever true. 
It is too plain he 's not been so to you ; 
Nor can 1 hope to cause you to forgive 
One you must deem to be unfit to live ; 
Although it will be death from him to part, 
I '11 strive to school my wayward, beating heart — 
At least alone my heavy grief to bear. 
That none with me my stern distress shall share." 
She said, and strove to reach the chamber door, 
Her fainting form most sinking to the floor : 
Napoleon saw her grief and read her fears, 
And cried, whilst that his eyes suffused with tears, 
" Lady, pray stay awhile, to hear what I 
Have now to say : your husband shall not die ! 
This letter was the only proof I had 
That he was false or his designs were bad ; 
And e'en this proof, before you leave the room. 
You shall observe the fire shall thus consume : 
The faithful love that you have here displayed 
Has saved his life who would have me betrayed. 
Few sights in life more cheering are, forsooth, 
To me, than woman's constancy and truth ; 
Then give no more a license to your grief. 
Unless it gives your faithful heart relief : 
Heed not your thanks — perhaps sometime I may 
Receive them better than I can to-day." 
" 'Tis strange," he said, when he bade her adieu, 
'' That one so false should have a wife so true." 



— # 



NAPOLEON: 

AN EPIC. 
BOOK THE SIXTEENTH. 

The Captive — 

The Death-bed — The Confession of Heaven's Justice ■ 

Morale. 



#- 



NAPOLEON 



A prisoner ! am I thus to pass my days 

Upon a dreary isle ? Are there no ways, 

Oh, Heaven ! that I can make amends 

For the misdeeds which thus my bosom rends ? 

But, shut from all the world, a prisoner here, 

Unsolaced by the love of all that 's dear 

To my sad heart ? In mercy let me bear 

Some other penance — but I pray you spare 

The poignant feelings of a father's heart, 

Which bleeds in agony, when forced to part 

From my dear son and from my youthful wife : 

In mercy spare me or else take my life ! 

Leave me not thus a prey to grief and woe ; 

The worst of deaths I 'd rather undergo. 

Leave me not thus to my despair a prey, 

Kept like a fierce brute caged, from out harm's way ; 

And if thou wilt in mercy hear my prayer, 

To keep thy laws henceforth shall be my care : 

My life in future I '11 devote to peace, 

That war's disastrous plagues may henceforth cease, 



6* 



66 NAPOLEON 



And virtue's pov/er shall all past acts reclaim — 
My constant care to glorify thy name ; 
To science and to arts henceforth I 'II be 
An earnest friend, and faithful be to thee 
In every act, and strive to make amends 
For all the evil my past life attends. 
Though I deserve great punishment, I own, 
For trampling Liberty beneath a throne. 
That which I should have cherished, now I feel 
Almost perished 'neath my tyrannic heel ; 
And those I thought my foes were, now I find, 
My friends in general, who to me were kind ; 
Who strove to show me all my evil ways, 
Which now I see, does now my soul amaze. 
Oh, would to Heaven that my fate had been 
What now I see that I could then have seen ! 
How difPrent should have been my past career ! 
No act of mine should then have brought me here 
Untaught by kind Adversity, my soul 
Spurned Wisdom's precepts, as I spurned control, 
And deemed the world was made for me alone. 
And thought all power centered in my throne; 
Frustrated all, that I now fancy would 
Have been to man fraught with the utmost good : 
Oh, had I been content with what I had, 
As then I should, had I not then been mad — 
Mad with the lust of an ambitious sway, 
I should have been, perhaps, this very day, 
Seated in happy and in glorious state, 
Upon a throne my actions had made great. 
Surrounded by a nation wise and free. 
Whose precepts should to all a model be 
Of what a nation ought to be — where reigns 
Sweet Liberty, so long confined in chains, 



NAPOLEON. 67 



Whose grateful souls my every wish would grant. 

And e'en anticipate my every want. 

Blessed in the love of one to me e'er true, 

In spite of all that I did ever do 

In outrage of her love, for which, alas ! 

My life upon a dreary isle must pass, 

Uncheered e'en by my darling infant boy. 

Bereft alike am I of hope or joy : 

But forced to mourn the life which I have led, 

And sorrow that I were not long since dead , 

And pray in vain, each day that passes by. 

That Heaven, appeased, will kindly let me die. 

Oh; well art thou avenged, my Josephine ! 

Yet thou would'st have mourned, had'st thou e'er seen 

Me as I am : thy tearful, mild blue eyes 

Would e'er have been turned upward to the skies, 

To supplicate my cause, who did thee wrong. 

Yet now, oh, joy ! I shall not be here long ; 

My grief will kill me. if naught else succeeds ; 

I'm rightly punished for my past misdeeds ; 

I only mourn my friends are forced to share 

What I alone deserve or ought to bear : 

Still would it grieve them, did I bid them go 

Unto their native lands from me, I know: 

No, let them stay : their faithfulness would grieve 

Less if they staid than if they were to leave ; 

It is a pleasure to ihem that they feel, 

Whose love to me was ever firm and real. 

Come hither, kind O'Meara — faithful friend, 

A man whom Heaven did in kindness send 

To soothe my latest hours, and redeem 

Thy kingdom's honor ; and I do esteem 

Thee much, my friend ; for thou 'rt an honest man, 

That will not petty tyranny e'er scan, 



68 NAPOLEON. 



Without proclaiming to the world the fact 

How meanly those in power sometimes act. 

I did believe thy nation could not claim 

But few who did deserve a virtuous name ; 
I But now I know, and know it to my shame, 

That for ^few I charged on all the blame ; 
1 And now I do believe that there are few 

Who would permit such treatment, if they knew 

How I am treated ; still I '11 not repine, 
I For all I bear the fault has been all mine. 

/ And faithful Bertrand, truest of the true, 

\ What can 1 say or do to repay you 

I For all the generous love to me you 've shown, 

\ Who 've deemed my interest greater than your own ? 

I can but thank ye — for I 'm poor indeed, 

In all save thanks, may God reward instead." 
I He ceased awhile, and then he gazed around, 

s And saw the tears were flowing to the ground. 

In copious streams, from his attendants' eyes, 
^ Whose heaving breasts gave birth to long-drawn sighs. 

\ He said, in kindness, as their hands he pressed, 

i And saw their faithful hearts were much distressed — 

/ '• Weep not, my friends, my valued, much-loved friends, 

I I hope my penance has made full amends : 

; If so, I die in peace and wish no more ; 

\ For peace I love and war I now abhor. 

I Man's term on earth is but in length a span, 

In which we should do all the good we can, 
I And not in fury wrong do to each other, 

\ But to each man behave as to a brother ; 

\ For prince and peasant sprung from the same clay, 

^ And all will equals be at the last day." 

I Him said, he turned him gently on his side, 

And with a soul resigned, he calmly died ; 



#— 



NAPOLEON. 69 



And may we trust his faults were all forgiven, 

And that repentance finds its way to heaven. 

Let us forbear to be the first to throw 

The stone at him who 's in the grave laid low : 

Whate'er he did, he was ordained to do 

For some wise purpose, p'raps, though hid from view ; 

And when we do his chequered history scan. 

Let us remember he was but a man, 

With much that 's good, and much that 's bad combined, 

Sometimes self-willed and sometimes very kind : 

Then let his faults be covered with the tomb, 

And seek alone a lesson from his doom. 



THE ROCHESTEK TOKEN. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 




•# 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



lET US SHAKE HANDS. 

Of all that in life is delightful to me, 

Or my mind with emotion expands, 
There surely is nothing more charming to see 

Than when faithful friends meet and shake hands. 

When Fortune has changed the appearance she wore, 
And Distress in your happy home stands, 

How potent 's the charm all our joys to restore, 
When a tried, trusty friend shakes our hands. 

When years of long absence have withered away. 
That as exiles we 've passed in strange lands, 

How glorious the feeling — how blest is the day, 
When we meet with our friends and shake hands. 

When we meet with the friends we loved long ago, 
Who are wrecked on Adversity's strands, 

How pure 's the delightful sensation we know 
When we cheer them and warmly shake hands. 



74 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

When Death in his avarice bids us prepare 

To obey his imperious commands, 
How soothing the feeling — oh, what can compare, 

As we feel our loved friends shake our hands ? 

This is not a life that is long to endure, 
Then let us no more bear the brands 

Of anger or malice, but let us be sure 

That whenever we meet — we shake hands. 



I SADNESS. 

\ My weary brow 's o'erpowered with care, 

i My heart 's oppressed and sad, 

I It really is too much to bear : 

i I fear 't will drive me mad. 

Oh, would thai death would end my pain, 

That I might gain relief! 
For that, alas ! I sigh in vain, 

For Death 's no friend to Grief. 

But where the hopes are bright and fair, 
And joy comes with each morrow, 

Be sure that death is soon seen there, 
To change their joy to sorrow. 

But to the wretch who fain would die, 
Who knows naught else buj strife, 

Death leaves him long to pine and sigh, 
Ere he receives his life. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 75 



MY GRANDFATHER'S COT. 

My grandfather's cot I my grandfather's cot I 
Is the theme of my song, and why should it not ? 
Though humhle its mien, 't is far dearer to me 
Than the gayest of mansions where'er they ma3^be. 

Where'er they may be, 

Where'er they may be, 
Than the gayest of mansions, where'er they may be. 

My grandfather's cot ! my grandfather's cot I 
Is to me of all others the most rever'd spot : 
I love it, I love it ! twas the first home I knew, 
And I loved it the stronger the stronger I grew. 

The stronger I grew, \ 

The stronger I grew, { 

And I loved it the stronger the stronger I grew. \ 

My grandfather's cot I my grandfather's cot ! I 

Wherever I wander, thou 'rt never forgot ) I 

The ivy-bound porch which I loved when a child, s 

I 've loved when in sorrow — or with happiness smiled. \ 

With happiness smiled, &c. \ 

My grandfather's cot ! my grandfather's cot I > 

Whether wealthy or poor, whatever my lot, > 

I trust that at last 'neath the roof I may die, \ 

And near to tiiy loved walls securely may lie. | 

Securely may lie, &e. \ 



76 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



WHO FEAR TO DIE ? 



Who fear to die ? 

The silly, senseless, thoughtless throng 
Who waste their lives in doing wrong — 

They fear to die. 

Who fear to die ? 

The haughty tyrants, at whose last hour 
Repent their former misused power— 

They fear to die. 

Who fear to die ? 

Those monsters whose continual drawl 
Is all for selves and God for all — 

They fear to die. 

Who fear to die ? 

Those whom Pleasure baa allured, 

Who to revels are inured — 
They fear to die. 



Who fear to die ? 

Those who neglect to aid the poor, 
Who have the power — these be sure 

All fear to die. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 77 



WHO LONG TO DIE ? 

Who long to die ? 

Those who are by care oppressed. 
Who long at last to be at rest — 

They long to die. 

Who long to die ? 

The victims of remorseless power, 
Whose life is misery every hour— 

They long to die. 



Who long to die ? 

The noble and the gen'rous man. 
Who has done all the good he can — 

He longs to die. 

Who long to die ? 

Those who hope to meet elsewhere, 
With those they loved and happy were — 

They long to die. 

Who long to die ? 

Those whom Virtue hath forsaken. 

Who can't retrace the path they 've taken- 

They long to die. 



7* 



78 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



LIBERTY'S HOME. 

A youth hied to a sage one day :• 
By his heaving breast 

\ He seemed much oppressed, 

I For sighing he scarcely could say — 

I O, tell me, aged man, 

) As only you can, 

I Where Liberty's home is, 1 pray. 

Is it in halls of castled Lords, 

I Where riches abound 

< And the wine goes round, 

I And maddens their ruffianly hordes? 

I Or in halls of state, 

\ Where the learned and great 

I To man pain and death awards ? 

j The aged man the youth then tells, 

I To expect not there 

I To find one so fair, 

I In palaces or hermit's cells ; 

\ In a poet's mind 

j Alone could he find 

I The home where sweet Liberty dwells. 

I " For none are there, who can, my son, 

I As you know, be free, 

I Or can hope to be ; 

I For if it were not for the sun, 

< With its glorious light, 
{ It would aye be night, 

\ And swiftly man's race would be run. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 79 [ 



*' And on the air which surrounds him, 

His trustiest friend, 

He's bound to depend, 
Or mis'ry's chains would have bound him : 

He could not exiet, 

Should air but resist 
The service that man has found him. 

"Then deem not, my son, that you '11 find 

What does not belong 

To man — save in song : 
Though Nature to him is most kind, 

It is but a dream, 

A fanciful gleam, 
That has birth in a poet's mind." 



HIGH ON THE WAVES. 

High on the waves tempestuous borne, 

Of wild Atlantic's sea, 
Whilst sails with furious winds are torn, 

I still, love, think of thee. 

Down in the valleys as we dash, 

Awhile engulfed to be, 
E'en whilst the huge oak timbers crash, 

1 still, love, think of thee. 

Until my blood shall cease to flow, 

Wherever I may be, 
Of this dear * * * I 'd have thee know, 

I still, love, think of thee. 



80 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



SOLILO(lUY ON POVERTY. 

It is as 't should have been — all things happen 

For man's good : present ruin may be fraught 

With ultimate salvation — like a storm 

That overthrows a town an empire saves 

From plagues destructive — or like a man 

Who, losing but a single member, does 

Oft save his body from corrupt decay. 

To all men's actions morals are attached, 

Which to those who 're wise and will observe them, 

As examples act, if good, to follow 

And be happy ; or, being bad, to shun. 

Had I been born to wealth or title's heir, 

1 might too have possessed the arrogance 

And littleness so commonly observed 

In those who are so. Its fancied greatness might 

Have overpowered the little reason 

I now possess, and rendered me unfit 

For aught that 's useful to my fellow-man. 

Save perhaps as human scarecrow, giving 

To him a warning how to shun my fate ; 

I might have been too callous of the wrongs 

My fellow-men endure — siding, perhaps, 

With those who wrong them ; crying like Sir Knight- 

•' Ignorant wretches ! mean-spirited curs ! 

Let me be rid of ye." And, perhaps, like him 

I might have striven to keep then in that state 

And feared to raise them to a higher one, 

Lest my self-glory should by contest close, 

Diminish down to its real nothingness. 

My very occupation seems to be 
Productive to me of a greater good 



THE ROCHESTrR TOKEN. 



Than many others could have been, perhaps ; i 

For though I often pine for nobler deeds, \ 

More worthy of my manhood, and contemn I 

With loathing hate the pettiness of acts > 

Which I'm at times in duty bound to do, > 

Still I "ve for act and contemplation time, \ 

Which I perchance could not enjoy eU^ewhere ; 

In converse mixing, as in act, each day, \ 

With keenest minds — great actors in life's play : 

Reflection throws her mantle o'er my soul, 

And renders keenly sensitive my mind ; 

To foul, unjust, and heavy grievous wrongs, 

Which now humanity is force! to bear I 

Oh ! did I but possess the force to ^o ; 

As ample as the power to reflect, > 

Or did I but possess the scorching pea * 

Of some who 've lived or some who 're now alive, • 

I should soon thunder forth unto the world ; 

So loud a peal that sleepy Justice' 'self 

Should be aroused to act, and quickly rid j 

The world of some of its oppressive wrongs ; ; 

Yet 'lis, withal, a dreadful curse to be \ 

The poor possessor of an empty purse, l 

When the will is gen'rous, and the mind is free ! 

To help the helpless, succor the distressed, j 

To aid the aged 'gainst direful woe and want, j 

And wrestle 'gainst o'erpowering wretchedness ; ^ 

Yet 'lis withal i)y far much worse to have | 

The means to do so, yet withal to know > 

That everv coin bestowed is to commit 

An act unjust to sorre poor creditor. 

Who may be waiting with inquietude 

And anxious fear, perchance, the timely aid, 

Which p'rhaps may save him from a bankrupt's fare, 



82 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

And keep bim free from the keen fangs of those 

Who make huge fortunes from the wrecked estates 

Of ruined men. To pass poor mis'ry by 

With half averted eye, as though filled full 

With cold, unfeeling inhumanity. 

Whilst that the heart with swift vibration beats, 

Whose warm life blood the sight appears to chill, 

And livid pallor decks the burning face, 

As though the blood which mantled in its view 

Had fled with shame, confused at being bound 

To one so poor and powerless in means I 

Talk not of pains which wait on after death : 
The greatest punishment which man can bear 
Must surely be — to be a witness forced 
Of wretched woe and want, and not have means 
Wherewith to banish it from out the sight. 



TO KNOWLEDGE. 

Oh ! knowledge ! I adore ye, 

So beautiful art thou I 
Mankind all bow before thee, 

And own thy beauties now q 
The age when thou wert scorned ia 

Passing from man's view ; 
Thy absence now much mourned is, 

Tho' erst deserted you. 

Then hail ! thou glorious power^ 
To happiness the guide ; 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 83 

May man in every hour 

Have thee firm by his side : 
Then naught he'll have to fear, 

Whatever may befall ; 
If thou art only near, 

No power can appeal. 



A CIT'S LAMENT FOR RURAL DEPRIVATIONS. 



Oh ! Goodrich, dear Goodrich, I would I were near ye, 
Away from this city of turmoil and strife ; 

When 1 am not, there is nothing can cheer me, 
I grow discontented and weary of life. 

I mournfully pine for the days that are fled, 

When I roamed through thy fields so fertile and green 

In thy quite retreats how happy life sped, 
Not a vestige of sorrow near me to be seen. 

But here I 'm confined in a close, smoky room, 
With nothing to gaze on but dismal black walls ; 

My only solace is to rail at my doom, 

To leave it I cannot — 'tis necessity calls. 

But perhaps I may live once more to behold ye ! 

Till then, dearest Goodrich, I bid ye adieu : 
Should I not, I trust then your graveyard will hold me, 

That at least when I'm dead I may be near you. 



\ 84 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. \ 



MY LATCH-BOOR KEY. 



In praise of a fiiend my lay shall be, 
One who has never proved false to me : 
There never was one so true as thee, 

My latch-door key. 

When i 've been late and homeward bound, 
And frost and snow bestrewed the ground, 
A friend in need indeed I 've found. 

My latch-door key. 

When numbed with cold and soaked with rain, 
And my utmost wish v^^as my home to gain. 
Thy aid 1 never found in vain, 

Tvly latch door-key. 

And should I ever lose thy aid, 

Of which I often am afraid, 

I really should be much dismayed, 

My latch-door key. 

Alas, old friend ! thou 'rt getting old, 
And soon I fear some day to hold 
Thy helpless form, worn out and cold. 

My latch-door key. 

Then in praise of a friend so good and true, 
This lay I sing, as the least I can do. 
And wish my friends were all like you, 

My latch-door key. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 85 ] 


MY LONE BED-ROOM. 


If there is aught that I detest, 


It is the cheerlessness and gloom 


Which meets me when I go to rest, 


Unwelcomed, in my lone bed-room. 


When I return from parties where 


Choice spirits meet and beauties bloom, 


How charming is that to compare j 


With my lonesome, cold bed-room ! | 


When from the country, fresh and fair. 


Where jflowers shed their sweet perfume, | 


How changed the scene, how cold the air, j 


Of my lonely, cold bed-room ! \ 


But if a maid whom I love dear. 


Should but share with me my doom. 


Her presence would most amply cheer 


My lonesome, dreary, cold bed-room. 


And if at length I should prevail, 1 


And to love her dare presume, l 


To bless my stars I will not fail, 


And live in bliss in my bed-room. 



'. 86 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



THE WONDERS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Hail ! advent of a Philosophic Age, 

Which every day supplies 
Some wond'rous power man's mind to engage, 

And fill it yf'wh surprise ; 
Darting out before the enamored sight, 

Bewildering the eyes 
Like some beauteous meteor's light 

Issuing from the skies. 

On every side us, we may view 

Creations of Mechanic mind, 
So slight in form, and yet so true 

In operation, that we find 
Tt most perplexing to express 

Our admiration — so confined 
Is language, for the mind's impress 

Leaves its expression far behind. 

Amidst the wonders which command our praise 

In this most glorious hour. 
That which my mind does most amaze, 

Is the Magnetic power. 
Power divine, e'en furious lightning's aid 

Will great blessings shower 
On those v^^hom bigotry has not dismayed, 

But accept the dower. 

A power which if not accepted. 

Kind nature shows shall not be lost ; 

Those who 've ever it rejected, 
Have done so dearly to their cost. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 87 j 

Say, mariner ! for you well know, I 

Who 've o'er the miglity oceans crossed, | 

Have you e'er seen a mightier foe 

Than lightning, when on billows tossed ? > 

Yet this mighty power, so tyrannic, > 

So powerful, so wild, 

Is to the well-informed mechanic, | 

As harmless as a child ; > 

And what of yore of mercy ne'er had any, | 

Is now become so mild, | 

A former foe can now no less than a \ 

Firm, faithful friend, be styled. \ 

Then mighty Steam, as it deserves, t 

Must, nrxt to that, applause receive, ; 

Which now so many uses serves, j 

And such wond'rous powers achieve. I 

It can give the little pin a head, ! 

And can the finest fabric weave, > 

And by its power man has fled ^ 

Almost too rapid to believe. ; 

. • I 

Behold yon vessel, tossed upon the main, \ 

Warring 'gainst wind and waves, i 

Which soon perceive their fury is in vain, ( 

The tyrants become slaves. > 

Like honesty, tho' long in vain it strives, i 

'T is sure to conquer knaves : I 

Gainst every art unharmed it survives, \ 

And gets every thing it craves. \ 

And the wond'rous Telescope, 

Which unfolds the most distant 8ki<;e, 



88 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

The magnifying Microscope 

Whose power description defies ; 
The Daguerreotype, Chromatrope, I 

And Electrotype facts supplies | 

(With the surprising Physioscope,) | 

Enough to disbelieve our eyes. | 

\ 
And would enquiring man e'er seek to learn 

Their cause and history, 
In serious earnest then, I bid them turn 

First unto Chemistry ; " 
There will he learn of much the primate cause, 

Of Nature's mystery, 
And those who will but study well its laws, 

Will banish sophistry. 

Tell me, ye poets ! can ye e'er conceive, 

With your sweet conception. 
Things more sublime, and yet to believe 

{Needs no faith ? deception 
Cannot e'en for a moment's space exist, 
^ * For proof gives true reception ; 

I For truth 's a thing none can long resist ; 

Belief attends perception. 



Though long a cloud hung o'er the world, 

Of ignorant superstition. 
And truth, alas ! was nearly hurled 

To boundless perdition. 
No more shall bigotry thus stand, 

Or deny this proposition, 
That what is truth must, in this land, 

Conquer every opposition. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 89 \ 



THE POET'S FRIEOS. 



Friends to some poets oft are foes, 
Because their flattery turns them crazy ; 

But mine are faithful, Heaven knows, 

For rot a friend have 1 who '11 praise me. 

If ever I presume to rhyme, 

Most dreadfully they then abuse me, 
And say I 'm only wasting time, 

Or else of pilfering they accuse me. 

And if I in ajest e'er show 

Them some of Burns' or Byron's songs, 
Which they happen not to know, 

Then there something surely wrong 's. 

But if I show them one in print, 
And do not tell them it is mine, 

'T is ten to one but what they hint 

" They do like that — that 's very fine !" 

Then accept, my friends, one and all, 
My hearty thanks for your good will : 

Did you praise 't would me enthral, 
But as you don't I 'm rhyming still. 



90 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

THE PEOPLE'S HYMN. 

An adoption from the English Royal Anthem. 

Oh, Lord ! be pleased to hear 
The prayers of thy people here, 

. And grant their prayer : 
Oh, pray, protect our Liberty ! 
Oh, make us happy, make us free, 
And show that we 're beloved by thee : 
God grant this prayer ! 

Oh, Lord our God ! arise, 
Scatter our enemies 

And make them fall : 
Confound their politics. 
Frustrate their knavish tricks. 
On thee alone our hopes we fix : 

God save us all ! 

Bid strife and discord cease. 

Let our land be blessed with peace : 

God grant our prayer ! 
Keep us beneath thy watchful care, 
Let all mankind thy blessings share, 
Give us laws which are just and fair : 

God grant our prayer ! 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 91 



THE PLEDGK OF LOVE. 

To . . . 



I trust this little gift of mine 

Will by you accepted be, 
la token, dearest . . . 

Of the love you bear to me. 

Your virtues and your charms combine 
To force me love you — no choice have I 

Then am I, loveliest . . . 
With hope to live or without it die. 

To love you and with love to pine, 

And know your heart beats not for me, 

'Twere better, charming . . . 
That I at once should cease to be. 

You may find others far more fine, 
More wealthy and of birth more high. 

But never, dearest . 

Will one e'er love you more than I. 

Then accept a heart that 's truly thine ; 
A heart which but for thee were free ; 
Oh, make me blest, dear . • 

By giving back thy love to me. 



92 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



THE TRIAL OF LOVE. 

An attempt to imitate Burns. 

Will ye gie yeer loe to me, 

My sweet Jeannie, oh I 
For in good tru' I do loe ye, 

And mickle hope to win ye, oh ! 

Git ye gon, ye silly mon, 

Ye daft loon Jamie, oh ! 
Oh, loe ye for ye faith I hae non', 

And therefore can none gie ye, oh. 

Oh, then for aye farewell I say, 
My faithless, fickle Jeannie, oh I 

For distant lands I will away, 

And ne'er mair try to win ye, oh ! 

Oh, can ye part, my ain true heart, 
Frae her who loes ye dearly, oh ! 

The hour that shall see ye start 
Shall see me dead, or nearly, oh ! 

'< This heart of mine has e'er been thine. 

I My truthful, faithful Jamie, oh ! 

I ken'd na that sae true I'd fin, 

^ But thoc'ht I try ye first, my Joe I 

\ 

j Then can ye go, my ain true loe, 

j Frae her wha loes ye dearly, oh ? 

My heart could ne'er survive the blow, 

Then can ye, Jamie, will ye go ? 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN, 93 

Oh, sin ye say yeer heart has aye 

Been mine, iny dearest Jeannie, oh ! 
Wi' ye I '11 ever happy stay, 

And be your faithful ain true loe ! 



NOME'S EYES. 

Norah's eyes are beaming brightly, 

Norah's eyes are clear bright blue ; 
None than Norah is more sprightly, 

None than Norah is more true. 

Norah's smile the heart bewitches, 

Norah's eyes shed Cupid's darts, 
Norah's love is, more than riches, 

Sought by those who 've lost their hearts. 

But though she smiles on all so kindly, 

Old and young — the grave and gay, 
All refused are — not unkindly, 

But her heart is far away. 

Riches, honors, all alike are 

Held by Norah's truthful heart ; 
Though her lover 's from her far. 

From her faith she '11 not depart. 

But soon he 's coming home again. 

All his wealth is now at sea ; 
Oh, then than Norah and her swain, 

None so happy e'er will be. ] 



94 THE JIOCHESTER TOKEN. 



GLORY. 



\ I once beheld a regiment march away 

* With music playing and banners streaming ; 

': The soldiers were bedecked so fine and gay, 

- Glory's flame their eyes were brightly beaming, 

And appeared more like actors in a play, 
Who of death or danger possess no dread, 

Than as men leaving happy home to slay 
. Their fellow-men — they were by Glory led. 

I The little rural village, when they 'd left, 

'i Seemed quite to me another place to view ; 

\ It looked so desolate — 't was so bereft 

; Except of women — of whom not a few 

I Seemed by the heavy grief betrayed, heart-cleft : 

I Mothers there were, and sisters — sweethearts too, 

Distracted wives, who soon were widows left ; 
But 'i was for Glory's sake, they all well knew. 

) Occasion after led me to a field 

i Whereon a battle had been lately fought ; 

The furious foemen had been forced to yield, 
I But 't was a victory very dearly bought ; 

For there lay men with dreadful wounds unhealed, 
I Beside the still exposed, unburied dead : 

They cursed the hour, and said their fate was sealed, 
W^hen they were first by savage Glory led. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 95 

A LOVER'S DESPONDENCY. 

'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick." 



In every form I meet, I trace, 
Her gentle manners, air and grace, 
Her lovely smile and beauteous face, 
Which from my mind 1 can't efface. 

Yet ever am I doomed to be 
Deceived, and her 1 wish to see, 
Alas ! is never seen by me : 
False Hope ! there is no truth in thee 

Yet 't is absurd for me to pine, 
Jf her affections are not mine ; 
AH hopes of her I will resign — 
My former much loved . 

For there are others, sure, as fair, 
As lovely in their grace and air, 
Who happily my lot might share ; 
Then to sigh for her I will forbear. 

But from this day I will be free 
As heaven's air, until I see 
Her who '11 return the love for me, 
Which, I bore to thee. 



96 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



Written on beholding a beautiful engraving in the London Art-Union 
Magazine, for the year 1847, entitled, I think, " Consolation, or the 
Comforter," copied from a French painting of that name. 

OH, 'T IS A BLEST (IP 'T IS) DECEIT, 

Oh, 't is a blest (if 't is) deceit, 

To faithful hearts whom love has bound, 
To think when dead they then will meet 
. Where those they loved will all be found. 

Ah, who would draw aside the veil 

From fond parents' hopeful eyes. 
To show them 't was a heedless tale, 

To say again the dead would rise ? 

I would not teach the widowed heart 

From its fond longings to refrain. 
That those whom death has forced^to part 

Are never more to meet again. 

I would not tell the bonded slave 

Who 's groaning in his misery 
Not to expect beyond the grave 

The bliss of being free. 

I would not teach old age the truth, 

Again he must ne'er hope to see 
The fond companions of his youth, 

Or with them ever happy be. 

Ffer 't is a blest (if 't is) deceit, 

To faithful hearts whom love has bound, 
To think when dead they then will meet 

Where those they loved will all be found. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 97 | 



I ROAM MID THE FOREST, FREE. 



I roam 'mid the forest, free, 

Unknown to the woild or its woe, 
As happy as I can be, 

No troubles or cares I know. 

Then here's to the forest wild, 

Where I roam merry and free, 
As careless as a child, 
As happy as I can be. 
As happy — as happy. 
As happy as I can be. 

With my friend, who 's the girl that I love, 
No deception with me 's to be found ; 

She 's as loving and true as a dove, 
:One more faithful there 's not above ground. 
Then here 's to, &c. 

No tolls, taxes ar tythes we e'er pay. 

And this is the reason why — 
On others we ourselves ne'er prey. 

And on me 't would be useless to try. 
Then here 's to, &c. 

In the morning I rise with the sun, 
And through the wild forest I go ; 

'T were a folly my rifle to shun. 

As the antler'd tribe very well know. 
Then here 's to, &c. 



r 



98 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

When old Age, with his friend grim Death» 

Claim me as their own to be, 
They '11 find I shall breathe my last breath, 

Where now I roam happy and free. 
Then here 's to, &c. 



TO H . . . G . . 



May'st thou be happy as a wife, 

Is the fervent prayer 
Of him who loved thee more than life^ 

And hoped thy lot to share. 

You little thought, amid the throng 
Who called you their admired, 

That I, a youth so poor and young» 
With love should be inspired. 

Yet so it was ; my heart for thee 
Would its best blood have spilled ; 

But now, alas ! thou 'rt lost to me — 
My cup of sorrow 's filled. 

My hopes henceforth must be the tomb, 
Where all one's troubles cease ; 

But when I have fulfilled my doom, 
May all your joys increase. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 99 

SAY, WILT THOU ROAM WITH MB ? 

AIR, . . . *«MARr Blane."' 



Say, wilt thou roam with me, my love, 

Though far away it be ; 
My heart will break e'er I can part 

With one so dear as thee. 
Though hard the. fare and rude 'sthe scene 

Which we may have to share, 
'T is better than with wealth to pine, 
If love were banished there. 

Then CO me — oh come with me, my dear love, 

Though far away 't is doomed to be, 
My heart would break e'er I could part 
With one who is so dear to me as thee. 

Since cruel Fate has doomed that I 

l£hould a poor exile be. 
Away from friends and all I love, 

Them ne'er again to see ; 
I bow to my imperious fate 

And banish all my care, 
I care not what may be my lot, 

If thou that lot will share. 
Then come, &c. 

And should the worst mishap befall 

That can to me betide. 
And Death relentless join my foe» 

And claim my gentle bride, 



100 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

No more I'd grieve at my sad lot, 

But Death should be defied ; 
For e'en in death we would not part. 

But still be side by side'. 
Then come, &c. 



I THE ANSWER. 



Believe me, love, where'er you go. 

Though far away it be. 
My heart true peace can never know, 

Till I am there with thee. 
1 heed not riches, honors, fame ; 
No charms have they for me ; 
The only things 1 sigh to claim, 
Are such as claimed by thee. 

Then ask no more if I will stray 

To distant lands afar : 
With you I '11 gladly haste away. 
And be where'er you are. 

My mother and my brothers too, 

Likewise my sisters dear, 
Have ever been most kind and true, 

And urge me to stay here : 
But still my weary, beating heart 

E'er prompts me to say " Nay ;" 
From you dear, love, I cannot part, 

But must with you away. 

Then ask no more, &e. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 101 

No matter what the scene may be, 

H scorched by Afric's sun 
Or bound by Norway's frozen sea ; 

To me they all are one, 
If you are there to be with me ; 

Let fate her worst supply. 
Whilst life remains with you I Ml be, 

And die where'er you die. 

Then ask no more, &c. 



WE 'RE HUMBUGS ALL. 



Of all the names which mankind find. 
That they may one another call, 

The truest one unto my mind 
Is this, my friends — We 're humbugs all. 

How safely may the doctors say. 

The lawyers swear, the parsons drawl, 

In serious earnest, day by day, 

'T is true indeed — We 're humbugs all. 

And authors, poets, statesmen too, 
With haughty great and vulgar small, 

Can never say a fact more true. 

Than this great fact — We 're humbugs dl. 



9* 



102 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



I LOVE THE BEAUTIFUL. 



I love the beautiful of all I see, 
On earth or in the air I 

They all possess a charm to me, 
Beyond compare. 

I love the virtuous and true, 

If rich or poor ; 
For good proceeds from all they do. 

We may be sure. 

I love the mighty and the great, 

If their power 
Is used to improve man's state, 

His birth's dower. 

I love the noble and the strong. 
Who dare resist 
Oppression and reform each wrong 
That may exist. 

I love the humble and the weak, 

Who bear oppression, 
And bid their wrongs alone to speak 

'Gainst aggression. 

I love the beautiful of all 1 see. 

In air or earth ; 
And nothing, as appears to me, 

Void that has birth. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 103 



THOUGn YEARS HAVE PASSED. 



Though years have passed since last I saw ye, 
Then but a youthful, simple boy, 

Thy form I fancy still before me. 
Bereft, alas ! of hope and joy. 

I dared not then to be thy wooer, 
Or sing love's lays into thine ear ; 

For I, alas ! was then so poor, 
And poverty is fraught with fear. 

I fondly hoped that future years 
Would bring with them a sweet reward, 

When wealth would free me of my fears, 
And give me her my heart adored. 

And thought, to gain you, I would strive 

Every means within my power,- 
And from sweet hope I did derive 

A solace to each toiling hour. 

But now, alas ! of hope bereft, 

For ever lost art thou to me ; 
No joy in life to me is left. 

Now lost to hope, now lost to thee 1 



1 104 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 




TO FRIENDS IN ADVERSITY. 




Despair not, friends, where'er you are, 




Whate'er your fate may be ; 




The end designed is wiser far 




Than it may seem to thee. 




The humblest thing that is on earth, 




Or in the sea or air, 




Is e'er by Him who gave it birth 




Held in His watchful care. 




The cloud that hangs above our heads 




And hides from us the sun, 




The greatest earthly blessing sheds, 




When 't has its mission done. 




And so with Fate — tho' hard, my friends, 




That we should be oppressed ; 




But when we see our trouble ends. 




We know 't was for the best. 




Then cheer thee, friends, dispel your cares — 




Let Hope displace grim Sorrow; 




A lowering cloud to-day prepares 




A brighter one to-morrow. 





THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 105 



MOURN, BROTHERS ! MOURN ! 

Mourn, brothers ! mourn poor Erin's woe, 
Our sister isle so bright and fair, 
That did of yore, as you know well, 
In all learned sciences excel ; 
But now a farained fever 's there, 
And hundreds daily are laid low ; 
In misery they mourn and die, 
And none to succor them are nigh. 

Though much to blame for past misdeeds, 
More through ignorance than crime, 
And much, alas ' to England's shame, 
We must forbear — no more must blame 
Ourselves or others ; for the time 
That's come calls not for words but deeds : 
Then rouse and lend a helping hand, 
And prove you 're worthy of your land. 

Self-interest pleads, and that alone 
Should be enough to rouse our souls 
To earnest pity for her woe ; 
For though now safe, we little know 
How long our happy Fate controls, 
Or for neglect we may atone 
Hereafter, with extreme regret. 
When to our land the plague shall get. 

Then mourn, kind brothers, for the land 
Which is oppressed by famine's power, 
And whilst ye mourn, assistance give, 
And be ye sure that, whilst you live, 



\ 106 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



Kind Heaven will its blessings shower, 
With its accustomed bounteous hand ; 
For each good act is sure to bring 
A meet reward from Heaven's kins. 



A WIFE'S QUALIFICATIONS. 



My dear friend P. , 

You once asked me 

What kind of a wife, 

As a partner for life, 

1 sought or hoped to gain : 

Now, therefore, I '11 explain. 

Not that 1 should wish to be 
Impossible to please, d' ye see ? 
To procure one perfect I don't expect, 
So I pray you do not that suspect ; 
But in the wife I hops to find. 
There must be something to my mind. 

She should be pretty^ — that is, not very plain, 
Who 'd share my pleasures, sooth my pain ; 
Be pleasing, patient, not too prouJ, 
Partial to prattling, not too loud ; 
Be neat in person, not too plumpy, 
Not over tall nor yet too dumpy. 



^-^ ^v ^_^^- ..,. ^.^^^^ ,-^^ ^^, — ^,^^^^.^^.^...^.^^- I ^ 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 107 

Her temper mustn't be provoking, 
Neither fond of snuff or smoking, 
Nor yet let trifl?s put her out 
Of patience, to produce a pout : 
She shouldn't be too pettish or too pert, 
Neither too prim nor yet a flirt. 

I care not, if her mind be pure, 
If she has property or if she 's poor; 
No matter what her principles may be, 
All professions are the same to me — 
Whether Protestant or Puseyite, or 
Pagan, Papist or Presbyter : — 

So that she practice what she preaches^ 

And that morality her precept teaches, 

And possess no petty prejudice against any party, 

To prevent her principles from being hearty. 

She must be prudent as a wife can be, 

To protect me from the pangs of poverty. 

Not to be too penurious, though, 
For that a paltry mind would show : 
I should like her to prepare her mind 
To be fit company for friends refined : 
I care not so much about a pretty face. 
As I do about accomplishments and grace. 

She should play on the piano — be a poet loo, 
Paint a little, though between I and you, 
I do not care how much or what she paints, 
Except herself; but if she faints 
At every trifle, she '11 not do for me, 
For that I cannot bear to see. 



108 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

And in conclusion, she must be 

One who '11 prove her preference for me ; 

Therefore, my friend, as through the world you go, 

Should such a one you chance to know, 

Direct me to her and as I 'm a man, 

She shall soon be Mrs. G. M . . gan. 



WHEN THE MOON SHINES BRIGHT AND CLEAR. 



When the moon shines bright and clear, 
Meet me in the forest-glen, love ; 

Nothing wilt thou have to fear^ 
For I shall be there then, love. 

Should the moon refuse its light, 
Still be there to meet me, love ; 

For thine eyes, shining so bright, 
Will light my path to thee, love. 

Naught in lite 's so dear to me. 
Compared to being near thee, love ; 

Hours pass, when near to thee. 
Like moments when from thee, love. 

I beseech ye, don't deny, 

Let blushes give consent, love ; 

If refused 1 soon shall die, 

When greatly you'll repent, love. 



^- 



THE ROCHESTKR TOKEX. 109 

OH, MOURN MK NOT ! 

(See Robert Emmett's letter to Miss Curran.) 

Oh, mourn me not! for I no more 

Shall breathe a sigh, or, mournful, shed 

A burning tear.: let me implore 

You, mourn me not when I am dead. 

I'or though a felon's death I die, 

A patriot's fire has warmed my breast :; 

Then let no tear bedim thine eye : 

Hence let thy grief, love, be suppressed. 

I could not live and know my land 

Was sore oppressed -by vicious foes ; 
And when the sword was in my hand, 

'T was there to free her from her wees. 

J could not bear the horrid 'thought 

Of being the sire of^wretched slaves, 
But risking all I love, I sought 

To gain them noble freemen's graves. 

And though I failed in my intent, 

Thirik not, my love, I strove in vain ; 
When 1 my life's blood shall have spent. 

Others 't will rouse to strive again. 

Though other means they may pursue, 

To gain the end I strove to gain, 
Yet Erin's sons, to Erin true. 

Will by-and-by her rights obtain. 



10 



110 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. \ 

— — — ■ , . < 

Then mourn me not ! Though now we part, i 

I trust ia Heaven we soon shall be < 

Bound soul to soul, as now by heart, 
By gentle love, from misery free. 



TO FICKLE WOMAN. 



To fickle woman ne'er again 

Will 1 my spirit bow : 
Upon man's honor, 'tis a stain 

Too heavy to allow. 
To succomb to a thing so vain : 

It is a shame, I vow. 

In boyhood's dreams I thought that she 

Was noble, gentle, kind, 
And ever fancied her to be 

Oppressed by stern mankind ; 
But now my vision's flown, I see 

jPc?o women who 've much mind. 

But henceforth Science I will woo ; 

She never will deceive, 
Or e'er be faithless or untrue, 

Or cause the heart to grieve : 
But fickle woman, ne'er in you 

Will I affain believe. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 11 



HUMBLE LOVE. 



Love is better than earth's treasure, l 

Love adorns the humblest cot, \ 

Wealth breeds misery, Love breeds pleasure, i 

Mis'ry reigns where love is not. $ 

f 

Gentle Sarah is a creature \ 

Formed for love, as all may see ; 5 

Love beams forth in every feature, \ 

None so true as she 's to me. ^ 



Though she 's poor, she is far dearer I 

To my heart than jewels rare ; 5 

Happy I when I am near her, > 

Freed from every wish or care. ' 



And when the day, the happy day 
Arrives, to make her ever mine. 

When Love to Hymen yields his sway, 
Ne'er again shall I repine. 

For love is better than earth's treasure. 

Love adorns the humblest cot, 
Wealth breeds misery, love breeds pleasure, 

Mis'ry reigns where love is not. 



11'2 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



THE TRIUMPH OF LIBERTY. 



It was not long ago, (though where or when 
It happened, does not ^rce me now to say,) 

There met together a small band of men, 
That if they could they might devise a way 

To save themselves from foul, dishonored graves, 

Of men who 'd lived and died as bonded slaves. 

Meagre their features, careworn' v/ere their bTOWS, 
Sullen their eyes, emaciate their form ; 

Mis'ry, which e'en the noblest spirit bows, 
Like stately elms before a furious storm, 

Had left them la distress, with no resource 

Or hope, save by opposing force to force. 

" What shall we do ?" enquired one of the groupv 
A virtuous man, who was beloved by all ; 

*' Shall we to tyranny forever stoop. 

Or break the galling chains which us enthral, 

And by a firm resistance strive to gain 

The justice we 've so long implored in vain ?" 

Long had they suffered ere they complained, 

Which, when they'd done, obtained them no redress ; 
And whilst a hope was left them, they refrained 
From murmuring, but could not now repress 
[ The anguish so long slumb'ring in their breast, 

\ At having been so heavily oppressed. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 113 

" Too long we 've suffered — far too long have borne 
Oppression's power : now the time's in sight 

When we no more in misery should mourn, 
But strive ourselves to gain our natural right. 

Though it should be upon the battle field 

To meet our death — living we should not yield. 

*' Did He ordain, when thus he made the soil > 

Productive thus of all that man can crave, \ 

That we should merely be the slaves of toil ? { 
Because the color of the skin he gave 

To us is somewhat different from the rest 

Of mankind, should we be hence less blest ? < 

" Did He, when thus he made the world so grand, i 

And gave to nature, almost to excess, ! 

Such gracious bounties, was it His command i 

That man should thus his fellow-man oppress ? < 

Or did He thus to man creation give, | 

That all in peace and unity should live ? j 

" Or was creation given that the few 

Might live in luxury, whilst the many, 
As great in mind, as virtuous and true 

To His most gracious laws, should scarce have any ? 
Children of toil and sorrow, answer me — 
Was or was not creation made for ye ?" 

A silence deep for a short time prevaded 

The group — so little noise the scene invades, 

A beholder might have been pursuaded 

They were but spirits from the land of shades : 

At length, with sudden outburst, thus 

They cried as with one voice, •' It was I it was 1" 



10* 



114 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

Then said the aged patriarch, " What prevents 

Obtaining for ourselves our rights denied 1 
If one united spirit us cements, 

The power of our tyrants once defied, 
We shall not long repine before we gain 
Redress for all the evils we complain. 

«* For who are they who now enthral us ? 

A contemptuous, weak, and puny band, 
Who although they now with force appal us, 

Would in an instant fly from out the land : 
Were we but to show our mighty power, 
Their's could not exist another hour. 

" Then, slaves, arise ! no more let your base fear 

Keep your spirits in a low subjection : 
Let united will and strength appear, 

And let God and our rights be our protection ; 
The happy day will then not distant be. 
When from our miseries we shall all be free.'' 

Thus said he, when a mighty shout arose. 

Which soon was echoed throughout all the land. 

And put to dire confusion all the foes 

Of human right, 'gainst which they could not stand. 

Nor ever can, no matter who they be, 

If the oppressed determine to be free. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 115 



HAIL, COLUMBIA ! 



Hail, Columbia ! till so lately known 
In numbers lately yet so greatly grown, 
Whose pride is to have overthrown 
Oppression's power, and disown 
The rulers of a foreign throne, 
Who in a proud and haughty tone 
Strove to claim thee as their own, 
Until at last too late were shown 
'Twould have been better left alone, 
Than thus unwisely discord strown ; 
For many, alas ! were made to moan 
In agony, and unaided groan 
With bleeding flesh and wounded bone, 
And curse their fate which made them be 
The hireling slaves of tyranny. 
Who were at length obliged to flee 
The land whose children made it free, 
Respected both on land and sea, 
Whose emblem 's Peace and Liberty ! 
May every country be like thee ! 
Nought would give such bliss to me, 
As if I could all nations see 
In holy love and unity 
So peacefully and well agree. 
As thou hast since thy unity. 

Noble thy sons, of talent rare, 
Who to avenge thee nobly dare, 
At honor's call, their right arms bare, 
And to the embattled plains repair. 



116 THli! ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

And bravely do their duty there ; 

Thy daughters lovely, mild and fair, 

Graceful in their form and air, 

In virtue can wiih all compare : 

That they may ever, is my prayer. 

Governed by laws both just and fair, 

The humble and the wealthy share 

A like protection and thy care ; 

To applaud thy justice who 'd forbear, 

Unless he would 'gainst truth forswear ? 

Then, hail, Columbia ! may thy name 

Ever deserve ihy present fame. 

And may sweet Liberty's glorious flame 

Spread o'er the world, and put to shame 

The world's proud tyrants — those whose aim 

Is 't enslave mankind, and who declaim 

Against thee, and who heap the blame 

Of that 'gainst which thou dost thyself proclaim, 

And w^hich they were the first to do, 

Which now they 've done they charge on you, 

But may we quickly see the day, 

When all thy sons in prudence may, 

Clear in conscience — proudly say, 

*' We all are brothers — from the self-same clay 

Are formed ; and though the sun's warm ray 

May change the color of the -skin, 

We heed not that, but look within 

The man, not at the form ; and if we find 

Him virtuous, talented and kind. 

In gentle arts of peace refined. 

Sure index to a noble mind. 

Then are we proud in love to bind 

Him to us." Columbia's children, this but do, 

And proudly call the world to view 



THE ROCHESTERj. TOKEN. 117 



The just example set by you, 

Then indeed thou 'It ever be 

The first 'mong nations, honor'd, free, 

True children of sweet Liberty ! 



BE STEADY, BOYS I 



Be steady, boys ! be steady ! 

For the time is drawing near, 
When good men should be ready 

With heads well stored and clear. 

It is not by brute force, you '11 own^ 
That wrong 's to be suppressed. 

But by the force of truth alone 
Mankind must be redressed. 

* The good time coming' will require 
Men who are good and true. 

Whom truth and justice can inspire 
Nobly to dare and do. 

Then be steady, boys ! be steady ! 

For the good time is drawing near ; 
Be watchful, ever ready, 

For the issue never fear. 



118 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



THE mm MAN'S SOK. 



Minute by ininutc!, a-a d:iy succeeJeth day, 

Slowly yet as surely, I 'in hast'ning to decay ) 

From tiie ground from whence I sprang, to the sell-same clay 

Hour by hour, is life ebbing fast away, j 

No furious streams can quench the fillrce internal fire 
That rages in my bosom, every hour higher ; 
I 'm smouldering in ruin, each instant I respire. 
It will not be much longer ere I shall expire. 

Joyously and welcome is old King Death to me ; 
My soul impatient waiteth, and longeth much to flee 
To the happy realms of bliss, never more to be 
Sore oppressed and sad as on earth 'tis doomed to be. 

Long, long, have I been mourning in this " vale of tears,'' 
Where oppression and unkindness everywhere appears ; 
But now (blest thought) I 'm dying — dissolution nears : 
Good-by to pain and sickness, sadness, grief and fears. 

Calmly and quietly I '11 lay me down to die, 

'T is but a tear of gladness floating in my eye ; ) 

My wing'd soul, impatient, is ready now to fly ; 

To all my friends I leave a heartfelt, last good-by, I 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 119 

Delivered at the Minerva Hall, Rochester, Feb. 14, 1849. 

ADDRESS TO THE ENGLISH SOCIAL PARTY. 

Kind friends and fellow-exiles, one and all, 

We joy to meet you in this Festive Hall : 

Where is the heart so cold, that will not glow 

To meet his Countrymen in weal or woe, 

To talk about the country of his birth. 

Though it may be the meanest spot on earth ? 

To him it yields a heartfelt sense of joy, 

If but to think of what was, when a boy, 

His happy home — of loved scenes far away, 

And all old fniends — who now perhaps moldering lay 

Entombed, where once they used to glad his bean, 

And wept with sorrow when constrained to part. 

Far from our native land as now we stray, 
'T is bliss indeed to meet and pass away 
A few short moments in a social form 
With those v/hose sympathies are pure and warm. 
In all that 'pertains, if to weal or woe, 
With one another as through Mfe we go, 
And hope that tjiose who iixeei each other here 
Will meet again for many a following year, 
And that a cordial friendship wi'l arise,'' 
To cease but when our earthly spirit tlies 
In serial purity beyond the skies ; 
Who '11 joy with those whom Fortune kindly cheers. 
And soothe the mind oppressed with causeless fears, 
Or cheer the heart that Sorrow's chain may bind, 
In lieu of those dear friends, sincere and kind, 
Who with our homes we have left far behind ; 
And cause the wheels of Time to onward roll 
On life's rough road, to reach a happ er goal ; 



120 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

THE DARLING OF OUR VALLEY. 

AIR Sallt in our Alley< 



'Oh, there 's a maid so blithe and fair, 

To whom all our young swains sally,, 
There is not one who can compare 

With the darling of our valley. 
When labor 's o'er at set of sun, 

Round her they 're sure to rally ; 
To hear them sigh is famous fun 

To the coquette of our valley. 

To walk with her upon the green, 

Or join her in a ballet, 
The favor'd one 's soon envied seen 

With the darling of our valley. 
.She laughs and smiles with every one., 

But with them all does dally ; 
■O, wise is he who can but shun 

The coquette of our valley. 

iBut there 's one, a noble youth, 

Who does not shilly-shally ; 
Mis manly form, his love, his truth, 

Have won the darling of our valley. 
The bells are ringing merrily. 

And now to wed shall he ; 
Oh, a happy swain he Ml surely be, 

With the coquette of our valley. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 12] 



A LOVER'S RUAPSODL 



Brighter than the evening star 

Shining in yon western sky, 
Brighter is the glance, by far, 

Of my lovely maiden's eye. 

Whiter than the whitest pearl 

Ever delved for in the sea, 
Are the teetii of the fair girl 

So gentle and so true to me. 

Milder than the mildest light 

Which issues from the moon's mild beams, 
On gentle summer's night. 

To me my gentle maiden seems. 

Her breath is sweeter than the rose, 
Her lips are softer than soft down : 

How I know you may suppose ! 

For her [ would forswear a crown — 

Or all the riches of the sea. 

Or eastern clime, however fine ; 
For naught in life 's so dear to me 

As her true love who '11 soon be mine. 



11 



122 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



OH, MOURN NOT, DEAR LAHLl. 



Oh, mourn not, dear Lahla, *t is useless to grieve, 

'T is better to smile than to sigh, 
'T is better to live and with hope to believe, 

Than oppressed with despair, dear, to die. 

Though dark is the hour which enshrouds us, I say 

'T is folly to give way to sorrow : 
The sun that 's obscured by the storm-cloud to-day, 

May shine the more brightly to-morrow. 

Though sad is the parting which now we endure, 

Still sighing will make it no better : 
Remember that time will all our woes cure, 

Though Fate is unkind — try forget her. 

We '11 prize the more highly the joys we receive, 

When given, which long are denied us, 
And p'rhaps may thank Providence, when we 't achieve, 

For having in kindness thus tried us. 

Whatever may happen, in short, bear in mind 

In Heaven's disposal we rest ; 
Whatever our destiny, still be resigned. 

And believe that 't is all for the best. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 123 



JESSIE'S LOVE. 



An auld man gaed to a lassie's gate, 
With powthered wig and blinkit ee ; 

He said he was o' high estate, 
And mickle siller too had he. 

Lovely Jessie, quo' he, spreely, 

Mickle loe hae I got ibr ye, 
Truth I loe ye very dearly, 

Will ye, sweet Jessie, wed wi' me. 

Ye shall be rich — nae more be poor, 
And gay attire you shall wear, 

A' that wealth can bring unto her 
Shall Jessie hae to deck her hair. 

And ye '11 be a noble leddy, 
And mony lassies hae beside ; 

Say, sweet Jessie, are ye ready 
To gang wi' me and be my bride ? 

Then Jessie said, with deep-drawn sigh. 
Whilst braw tears sprung to her ee. 

To gie to you no loe hae I, 
For my true loe is far at sea. 

And when I see him by my side, 
Though poor and houseless he may be, 

Wi' joy I *11 be his bonny bride. 
If he should still be true to me. 



124 THE ROCHESTER TOKEW. 

And if he 's dead, as pr'aps he may, 
Tell me then, Jessie, what would you ? 

Oh, if he should, then I wad pray 

To join him soon — that 's what I 'd do. 

For he 's a lad I Ice sae dear, 

His truthful heart 's more dear to me 

Than all your wealth : if he war here, 
Oh dear, how blithesome I should be I 

Then quickly off the old man threw 
His powthered w ig and blinkit ee. 

And closely to him Jessie drew — 
'Twas Jessie's loe fra off the sea ! 

He was nae auld, but blithe and gay then, 
His eyes were sparkling wild wi' glee. 

His curly hair was black — quite raven, 
And rich as he could wish to be. 

Forgie, dear loe, what I hae done, 
Forgive my wicked doubts o' ye, 

And quickly to tde kirk let 's run. 
And then for aye let 's wedded be. 

Wi' joy the lassie quick consents. 
Forgiveness was wi' her a law ; 

And never to this day repents 
She wedded him she loed befoye. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 125 

THE COUrfRY OF OUR BIRTH. 

AIR ''The Englishman." 



Here 's a song to the land of our birth and our sires, 

A land dear to you and to me ; 
And until the flame of life's lamp expires, 

Let us hope that it ever will be. 
There are faults in her laws, we all must admit, 

Which the " good time coming" will cure. 
And who, more than we, will rejoice then at it. 
Though where is there aught that 's quite pure ? 
Then here 's to the country of our birth, 

And may Old England e'er be 
The pride of her sons o'er all the earth ; 
The friend of the oppressed and the free. 

We know that kind friends and true hearts are there. 

And scenes most delightful to view ; 
Whilst Science and Commerce may proudly compare, 

And claim to be equalled by few. 
Whilst a refuge is found for all to share. 

For the king and the fugitive slave ; 
Her daughters are virtuous, kind and fair, 

Whilst her sons, they are generous and brave. 
Then here 's to the country, &c. 

The Fathers of Freedom were nursed on her shores ; 

'T was there that they learnt to be free, 
And left to their sons those glorious laws, 

A model the whole world may see. 
And may the cold heart be enshrined in cold earth, 



126 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

That the ties would strive to sever 
'Twixt the land we 've adopted and of our birth, 
That binds them now closely together. 
Then here *s to the country, &c. 



CONFINEMENT. 



Like a prisoner in his cell, 

Here still, alas ! am I confined : 

I should be happy if as well 
As is my body, was my mind. 

For then my fancy could not fly 
To distant valleys, verdant groves, 

Or clamber up wild mountains high, 
Where now, alas ! it often roves. 

But free and happy I should be, 
And never should I wish to roam, 

But every day should happier see 
Me dwelling in my happy home. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 127 



LOVE'S DIFFIDENCE. 



With hope and fear my life I pass, 
And if you 'd know the reason, 

I dearly love a handsome lass, 
Whom to love I fear is treason . 

For I am but a humble man, 
Of wealth possess no store. 

Though 1 '11 strive to win her if 1 can, 
Whom I so much adore. 

For oft she deigns to smile on me, 

And whispers in mine ear, 
And tells me that most happy 's she 

Whenever 1 am near. 

But when I think of her sweet charms, 

Her virtues and her sense. 
My mind is filled with wild alarms — 

I blush for my pretence. 

Oh ! if I can but win this maid, 
Whose love 's so dear to me. 

For which I have so often prayed, 
How happy 1 should be. 



128 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

A COMPARISON. 

Addressed to the people of a " Great Nation." 

Hark ! hear ye not yon fearful cry 

Which springs from Dahra's cave ? 
See, hundreds there are doomed to die 

And find one common grave : 
Weak, helpless women, aged men. 

And, harrowing to state ! 
Poor, helpless little children there 

All share one common fate. 

Whilst crackling faggots fierce are blazing, 

Lit by a human hand. 
With stern, exulting features gazing, 

The ruffians calmly stand. 
Is this the glory, this the pride 

Should fill a Christian breast ? 
Is this the way of Him who died 

To succor the distressed ? 

Could not the awful, piercing shriek 

That rent the stifling air. 
Move your ferocious hearts to seek 

Your helpless foes to spare ? 
Was there not one who could reflect ? 

That had a father's love ? 
A husband's heart ? a son's respect? 

Or regard for Him above ? 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 129 

Think ye not, fierce barbarians, say, 

Though now you rest secure. 
When for this crime you '11 dearly pay, 

The time will come be sure. 
Though Heaven gazed upon the deed, 

And then gave forth no sign 
Of wrath, yet know that 't is decreed — 

"Vengeance,'' mankind, "is mine." 

Oh, that the records of this day 

Gould ever be effaced, 
Save that perhaps its presence may 

In man breed strong distaste 
For fierce, unholy, bloody war, 

Which now infests mankind. 
Which now they love they '11 then abhor, 

And peace in love shall bind. 



See yonder savage heathen there. 

Though bred in savage state, 
Who does in pity freely spare 

His furious foes of late. 
Aye, even Heki, Zealand's chief, 

A savage bred and born, 
Would, when he could, afford relief. 

And savage actions scorn. 

E'en though he strove to free his land 
From fierce invading foes, 

A civilized and well-trained band 
His unskilled force oppose : 



130 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

Still, when the angry strife is waging, 

His nature, kind as brave, 
Is not with cruel passions raging, 

But bravely strives to save. 

See this, you self-styled Christian band ! 

A heathen puts to shame. 
And on your actions sets the brand 

•'Ferocity," not "fame !*' 
Learn hence a lesson from this fact, 

If you 'd be known as brave, 
Never with demon fury act. 

But with christian mercy save. 

%* The same newspaper which announced the awful massacre in the 
Caves of Dahra, of upwards or four hundred human beings — old as well 
as young— women as well as men — by the civilized. Christian (?) French 
army in Algiers, under Bueeaud, also announced that a chief of a tribe in 
New Zealand had, after taking a town out of the hands of the European 
settlers, havi ng previously given them three notices to quit it, without 
avail, found the wife of a sailor who had just been confined and had been 
left behind in consequence of being incapacitated for instant removal, 
and with the utmost humanity he had the invalid and her infant carefully 
conveyed into the care of her fugitive friends, under a flag of truce -, and 
not only so, but that some of his partizans having surprised and captured 
a commanding officer and a midshipm m, whilst engaged reconnoitering, 
and conveying them to their chief, that Nobleman of Nature's own hon- 
oring, permitted both the captives to beset at liberty, armed as they 
were, captured but otherwise unharmed : " Comparisons are odious." 



TO ... . 



Thy charms which charmed can charm no more, 

Their power is lost on me, 
This heart which loved so true before, 

Can ne'er again love thee. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 131 



THE MANIAC GIRL. 



I knew her when a pretty child 

Upon her mother's knee ; 
I knew her when with joy she smiled, 

From care and sorrow free. 

I knew her when, to girlhood grown, 
With glee her face was beaming ; 

I knew when she 'd frankly own 
Of care she naught was dreaming. 

I knew her when she pledged her troth 

To him she loved so well ; 
I knew when fate forced them both 

In anguish say, farewell ! 

I knew when others came to woo, 
And though they did implore 

They found her faithful — nind, but true 
'T was all in vain they saw. 

I knew when he, with love unchecked, 
Was returning o'er the main : 

1 knew when his ship was wrecked, 
They never met again. 

I knew h^er when they told her 
The news which was so sad ; 

'T was painful to behold her — 
Alas ! it drove her mad 1 



132 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 

I knew her when she madly cried, 
When his name she wildly raved, 

She wished with him that she had died, 
Or else that he was saved. 

I knew her when she wandered out 
To the lone sea-shore, one day, 

Where in the sea, with maddened shout. 
She plunged — and sank beneath the spray. 



BE CONTENTED. 



Oh, envy not others, whate'er they possess, 
But enjoy in content what you 've got ; 

And be sure that kind Heaven will graciously bless 
And enviable render your lot. 

If our wants are not bounded by reason's domain, 

We never shall get all we need ; 
Whilst every denial will fill us with pain, 

And deem we 're unfavored indeed. 

Whilst the humblest abode will appear like a throne, 

If content finds a true welcome there. 
Whilst the fruits will be sorrow that envy hath sown. 

And joy be rejected by care. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKKN. 133 

— ■ I 



WOMAN'S MISSION. 



Still woman's star shines with its brightest rays, } 

In humbler yet in far more useful ways, 

In her own home, in her domestic sphere, 

With those she loves and would be ever near : 

Man's nurse in childhood, and when older grown, ; 

With her sweet power — solely woman's own, 

To soften and refine the youthful mind 

To acts of virtue, love to all mankind, | 

To sow the seeds of truth within his breast, | 

To right the wronged and succor the distressed, | 

To live in peace — abhorring furious strife, ; 

And, older still, to be his faithful wife, ] 

A sharer of his joys, and in his woes 

A faithful counsellor against his foes, ; 

A helpmate meet who '11 strive to make amends ! 

For all the woes which on man's life attends, ) 

Beside his bed of pain close attending 

To all his little wants ; when health is mending, ; 

A fond companion of his gloomy hours, ! 

Which wait on him when sickness overpowers ; i 

Who '11 with delight, whene'er the wish's expressed, 

His feeble body prop, or when he 'd rest, I 

His aching head would pillow on her breast, ! 

And blessing thus would feel herself was blest: | 

And when old age with second youth returns, j 

And death concludes the scene — 'tis here she earns ; 

The honor which is heaped upon her name, ) 

And with confusion puts to flight and shame I 

Her base revilers : thus it is she shows j 

Her angel-mission, soother of man's woes. I 



12 



134 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



A POET'S CONTENTMENT. 



Say ! why should I my lot repine ? 

For many do I know exist, 
Who 've not a happier one than mine : 

Then why to pine shall I persist ? 

Though wealth may not my coffers fill, 
Or sumptuous fare bestrew my board, 

Or luscious wines destroy me — still 
1 'm happier far than many a lord. 

I feel no pain from sumptuous food, 
No cares to me my riches bring : 

Who follows strictly Nature's mood, 
To him will truest pleasures cling. 

For aught on earth I do not crave, 

Save but contentment, love and peace ; 

*T is many wants make man a slave, 
And having makes his wants increase. 

These, ills create where none would be, 
And all true pleasures do destroy ; 

Grim discontent and misery 

Thus reign where reign should only joy. 

No servile deeds do I perform 
To any earthworm here below, 

Or bow in abject servile form 
To rich or poor, or high or low. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 135 ; 



If in a prison I 'm confined, 

It matters not the least to me ; 
For if I am but free in mind, 

What care have I where I may be ? 

I roam in fancy's wakeful dreams. 

Through brighter lands than man e'er sees 
Through flowery fields, by rippling streams, 



PRIDE OF LABOR. 

Where 's he who fears to hear it said. 
Or with craven shame hangs down his head, 
And seems to bear the sound with dread — 
By honest toil he earns his daily bread ? 

Our duty is to useful be, 

Like the little humble bee, 

And from the world make misery flee. 

And in its place contentment see. 

Then where 's the shame of honest toil ? 
Nature, when she made the soil, 
Ordained it, and he who 'd shame to toil, 
On him alone should shame recoil. 



Where zephyr's songs attend the breeze ; 1 

Where all is love — v/here none ropine, * 

Where earth-born misery enters not ; | 

Then where 's a happier lot than mine ? | 

Say ! why should I bemoan my lot ? \ 



# 



136 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



ALL SHOULD DO SOMETHING. 



Oh, what can I, to aid mankind 
In his upward onward course ? 

My will is free, my power 's confined. 
Which fills my soul with dire remorse. 

Something all men should endeavor, 
That will improve their fellow-man ; 

Then when their thread of life shall sever. 
With joy they may their past life scan. 

Had l»wealih or titled name, 
Then I might lead on the way ; 

But now I 'm poor, unknown to fame — • 
Who 'd list to hear what 1 've to' say ? 

Yet, though in life I now may fill 
A humble station, there may be 

A time when both the power and will 
May be alike combined in me. 

And though 1 'm poor, perhaps my life 

May to some a lesson give, 
By adoring peace, abhorring strife, 

May teach them how they ought to livc» 

And if it should, then come what will. 

Ne'er again will I compluin : 
Whatever lot in life I fill, 

J shall not feel I 've lived in vain. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 137 



THE BANKS OF THE FAIR GENESEE. 



Oh, haste with the moment, dear Lai, to my side, 

Nor think what the trouble may be ; 
A solace you '11 find for whate'er may betide, 

On the banks of the fair Genesee. 

Though humble 's the cottage in which I reside, 

Though void of all splendor it be, 
Than 1 who more happy, with you by my side, 

On the banks of the fair Genesee ? 

The river is gliding along at my feet. 

The birds are all singing with glee ; 
You only are wanting my joy to complete 

On the banks of the fair Genesee. 

Then haste with the moment, dear Lai, to my side, 
Nor think what the trouble may be ; 

A solace you '11 find, when my own happy bride, 
On the banks of the fair Genesee. 



EPITAPH ON INFANT CHILDREN. 

The fairest flowers which on earth are grown. 
Are mostly culled as soon as they are blown ; 
And thus in heaven 't is ; the angels cho 
The flowers earth desires least to lose. 

12* 



138 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



I'M EVER THINE. 



Have faith, dear * * *, in what I say, 

And ne'er again repine ; 
Though I from thee am far away, 

I still am only thine. 

Though beauty beams on every hand, 
And forms some think divine, 

No homage can they e'er command 
From him who 's only thine. 

Nor wit nor wealth can me impress. 

To bow before their shrine ; 
Their warmth my coldness doth repress, 

And thus I still am thine. 

And let rae stray where'er I may. 

To none can I incline ; 
To none but thee my heart will pay 

The homage that is thine. 

Not length of time nor length of space, 
Howe'er they may combine. 

Will e'er be able to efface 
The love that 's only thine. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 139 



WE'fiE O.NWARI) ADVANCING, LADS. 



We 're onward advancing, lads, keep this in view ; 

Be steady, be watchful, it all rests with you ; 
Be true to yourselves, and thus show you are true 

To the whole human race — whatever you do. 

The day may be distant, but not the less sure, 
When wrongs shall be righted which now we endure; 

When liberty's triumph our woes shall all cure, 
And all shall be happy, if rich, or if poor. 

The fiercest of foes that now 'gainst us contends, 
Are Bacchus and Folly, our fanciful friends ; 

To be ridded of tho^e our success all depends ; 
If not, in its stead fatal ruin attends. 

They ever have been so, and will if they may, 

Lead us in trouble and basely betray ; 
Then cast them aside — be no longer their prey, 

Be sure 't will at last come though long be the day. 

Then let me implore you, lads, keep this in view ; 

Be moral, be steady, whatever you do ; 
We 're sure to be victors, if you will be true, 

Then bear this in mind, lads, " it all rests with you !' 



140 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



THE MYSTERY OF THE HEART. 



The heart whose smile is often brightest, 
And iooks of happiness may wear, 

Is not always found the lightest, 
But often most depressed with care. 

Like April's sun, which brightest shines 
Just before the coming shower, 

So the heart, which though it pines, 
Will not acknowledge sorrow's power. 

The heaviest heart will oft assume 
Looks of pleasure, bright and gay; 

Whilst sore oppressed by heavy gloom, 
'T is really wasting to decay. 

It often breaks, and yet unknown 
The cause may be to those around : 

The noblest heart will e'er disown 
The grief to which it 's firmly bound. 

Mighty science oft unfolds 

Wond'rous mysteries — so does art ; 
But the firmest seat which mystery holds, 

Is 6xed within the human heart. 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 141 

THE WIFE TO HER HUSBAim 

Oh, welcome, dearest, home again I 

No joy my heart can know, 
But is forever filled with pain, 

Whene'er from me you go. 

Though all the world save you were here, 

No joy 't would yield to me : 
My thoughts are ever on my dear, 

And will forever be. 

The birds are mournful when you stray, 

The winds are sighing too, 
And my poor heart when you 're away, 

Beats heavily for you. 

Then, dearest, never, never stray 

From where your love does dwell, 
Until stern Death shall force us say, 

" Awhile, dear love, farewell 1" 



LOVELY WOMAN, 

Lovely woman, soul inspirer. 
Creator of the good and true. 

Here I bow me, thine admirer. 
And pay the homage due to you. 

All nations own, who are refined 
And in learn'd sciences excel, 

That through thy influence 't is mankind 
Has done what he has e'er done well. 



142 THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. | 

And without thee to cheer the way, | 

Man's path through life would cheerless be .; [ 

But, lightened by thy soul's bright ray, I 

Man gains so high a destiny. 1 

Oh, may there never be the time. j 

When by man thou wilt be spurned, [ 

But may thy virtues so sublime, 

Gain the love so well thou *st earned. 



MRS. STEVENSON OF HENRIETTA. 



Of all the friends whom I have known, 

I never knew a better 
Than my friend Mrs. Stevenson, 

Who lives at Henrietta. 

She '11 never rest until you 're killed 
With kindness, if you '11 let her, 

As you will find if e'er you go 
To her at Henrietta. 

But if you do — and live it out, 

You never will forget her, 
But hope that life and peace may be 

Her lot at Henrietta. 

I bless the day with heartfelt glee, 
The day when I first met her ; 

Hurrah for Mrs. Stevenson ! 
Hurrah for Henrietta ! I 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 


143 


CONTENTS. 






PAGE 


Napoleon— An Epic, 


3 


Let us Shake Hands, 


73 


Sadness, ... 


74 


My Grandfather's Cot, 


75 


Who Fear to Die ? 


76 


Who Long to Die ? 


77 


Liberty's Home, - - - 


78 


High on the Waves, - - - 


79 


Soliloquy on Poverty, 


80 


To Knowledge, 


82 


A Cit's Lament for Rural Deprivations, 


83 


MyLatch-Door Key, 


84 


My Lone Bed -Room, 


85 


The Wonders of Philosophy, 


86 


The Poet's Friends, 


89 


The People's Hymn, - - - 


90 


The Pledge of Love, 


91 


The Trial of liOve, 


92 


Norah's Eyes, . - - 


93 


Glory, .... 


94 


A Lover's Despondency, 


95 


Oh, 't is a Blest (if 't is) Deceit, 


96 


I Roam mid the Forest, free. 


97 


To H . . . (^ . . . 


98 


Say, wilt thou Roam with Me ? 


99 


The Answer, 


100 


We 're Humbugs all. 


101 


I Love the Beautiful, - ' - 


102 


Though Years have Passed, 


103 


To Friends in Adversity, - 


104 



144 



THE ROCHESTER TOKEN. 



Mourn, Brothers ! Mourn ! 

A Wife's Qualifications, 

Wlien the Moon shines bright and clear, 

Oh, Mourn me Not ! 

To Fickle Woman, 

Humble Love, 

The Triumph of Liberty, 

Hail, Columbia I 

Be Steady, Boys ! - 

The Dying Man's Song, - 

Address to the English Social Party, 

The Darling of our Valley, 

A Lover's Rhapsody, 

Oh, Mourn not, dear Lahla ! 

The Country of our Birth, 

Confinement, - - 

Love's Diffidence, 

A Comparison, 

To ... . 

The Maniac Girl, 

Be Contented, 

Woman's Mission, 

A Poet's Contentment, 

Pride of Labor, 

All should do Something, 

Th e Banks of the fair Genesee, 

Epitaph on Infant Children, 

I 'm Ever Thine, 

We 're onward advancing, Lads ! 

The Mystery of the Heart, 

The Wife to her Husband, 

Lovely Woman, 

Mrs. Stevenson of Henrietta, 



PATl 

10.> 
106 
108 
109 
110 
111 
112 
115 
117 
118 
119 
120 
121 
123 
125 

n& 

127 
128 
130 
131 
132 
133 
134 
135 
136 
137 
137 
1.38 
139 
140 
141 
142 
142 



ERRATUM. 



Tli'o coucludinsr lines of tlic " Address to the Eng'isli Social Parly," werp 
iccidciUally omitfed in making up page l"iO, on wliicli tiicy should appear, 
rijcy arc here inserted. 

^J'lial when observed, as we shall be, by others, 
They '11 call us tru^y " happy English brothers.** 
And you, kind hiends, who, born in other lands, 
Are here to greet us with your friendly hands, 
We joy to sec you ; and we trust each one 
Will every year do what he now has done. 
We take it kindly, and esteem tlie heart 
'J'hat can perform so generous a part ; 
'J'o one and all we do as lirst wi- did, 
A true, sincere, and heart (el I welcome bid : 
And hope that all will pass this happy night 
in purity of bliss and calm delight. 
















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